


bloodline [langris vaude] | completed

by e_nvchrno



Category: Black Clover - Tabata Yuki (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Black Clover Week, Clover kingdom - Freeform, Dark Elves, F/M, Fire Magic, Friends with the Royal Houses of Clover Kingdom, Heaven & Hell, Langris Vaude is Trying to Be a Better Human, Magic, Mana - Freeform, Manga: Black Clover, Oblivious Langris, Royalty, Solid Silva is also Trying to be Decent, Spatial Magic, Supernatural - Freeform, grimoire, magic spells, princess and prince, royal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:02:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 46,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26063149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/e_nvchrno/pseuds/e_nvchrno
Summary: ✁・・・❝happiness shouldn't come with pain.if you burn, i will burn with you.||ブラッククローバー
Relationships: Langris Vaude/ Original Female Character, Langris Vaude/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 32





	1. The Spade

It wasn't supposed to begin this way.

A colossal monochromatic canvas. A memento of a fallen era.

The sound of something cracking and then shattering, was enough to finally cut through the chatter and laughter that filled her light - filled dreams. 

The girl jerked awake from her slumber, gasping on choked air as her shoulders shackled backwards violently the moment she moved. Faltering gasps and chattering teeth, her hand came up to her neck weakly, fingers tracing over prominent scars on her neck, in the shape of something only snake fangs could have done. Her body shivered with the cold, goosebumps raising along her skin.

"W-What ... Where..." She pushed herself off towards the door, but everything was fuzzy, and there was a pinching pain at the back of her head that warned of unpleasantness should she try to move.

“A...Laboratory?” She whispered, her breath catching at the back of her throat audibly. Plasma screens and filing cabinets and test tubes and syringes. In that suspended moment, that fraction of a second, her brain offered an explanation and yet rejected it simultaneously.

How long had she been here? She couldn't seem to remember. The days seemed like a blur. The last thing she saw was... 

“Spade Kingdom,” she murmured when some sort of realisation dawned on her. She groaned at the pain in her head but instructed herself to keep trying.

Through the blotched colours and the static blackness, she could only make out fuzzy strings of memories. Fear clambered upon her mouth and tasted bitter on her tongue. A curse died upon her lips. Forcing herself to stand, she winced at the cutting current of memories and dug her finger into her skin so hard she was sure it bled. She remembered, but at the same time she didn’t. An offering and a rejection. A promise and a betrayal.

This was supposed to be an experiment. A trial. a proposal.

A bridge that could have connected two countries.

But… 

“Lady Eirene!”

Her eyes cracked open, her breath caught in her throat and she wondered if the shock had numbed her to the meaning of this scene. A man approached her cautiously, his bloodstained cloth bright red against his skin. He was begging her to do something, to help him, perhaps, and a horrified gasp left his lips when his eyes perched upon the scar on her neck.

She drew back, her expression stark in comparison to his. For one brief moment, she thought the man might start weeping but instead he calmly told her his name - Ralph, one of the King’s servants, and asked her if she could stand.

It was then she realised that a mouthful of blood was quite offensive to her senses. She could feel the warm liquid stealing down her throat as she tried to speak, trying with every aching bone in her body to spit the distasteful remains of it out. She allowed herself to lean against Ralph, to steel herself against the tremendous discomfort and she managed to ask him, “W-What’s going on?”

His response was immediate. Hasty. Fearful. But through the noise outside, she could only make out a few words, but the fear twisted about on his face was sufficient indication that something was so terrifyingly wrong.

"The Spade Kingdom... It's under attack. The Zogratis siblings have attacked… The ones who've held you captive… Lady Eirene!"

But again, in the midst of chaos and flames, she could only make out those few succinct words. He engulfed her in a gentle hug, and immediately she lurched backwards, both arms in front of her, hands clenched into tight fists. 

"I..." She hesitated, lowering her stance. He meant no harm, she could sense it, especially with the great gusty heaves punctuating the rise and fall of his shoulders as he sobbed. Then he sniffled slowly, in spite of his previous action, he spoke his next words sharply, as though they were a whip.

"This is no time for this... We must leave. Come on! This is our only chance!" 

"W...Wait. I don’t understand," she managed to croak out past her constricting throat.

"I promise you will understand soon. I will bring you back to your family," he assured, and his words carried hope.

"Who…? Who’s my family?!" She stopped short, drawing Ralph to a halt as well.

"We… We don't have time. We have to go. You're finally free. Your mother and father... They... Don't you remember, Lady Eirene?... " A lone tear dripped down his cheek as he smiled weakly. The further she ventured out from her prison of torture, the more she started to come to her senses. All the things that were numbed began to spark alive, yet her mind was foggy. 

"N... No," she whimpered, shaking her head vigorously, "No. Ple- Please."

 _Let me take control_ , the little voice in her head said.

The word no escaped from her lips, but she felt fear creep into her veins because she knew that voice in her head wasn't her conscience but something dark and evil and twisted. She swallowed the fear that was threatening to grow.

"Lady Eirene! They're coming towards us!" Ralph shouted, and Eirene startled at the sound of his voice, having half forgotten his presence. "There's no time. I'll hold them off," Ralph glanced at the swarm of soldiers heading towards them.

When she finally found her voice, a protest ripped out of her throat. "N-No, wait... No! I can-"

"Lady Eirene, watch out!" Ralph shouted. Knocking out one of the soldiers with his magic, he rushed to her side. “L-Leave! You must go to them. You must go to your siblings," he amended before she could ask.

“Siblings?”

This was unreal. It felt surreal, a nightmare that she couldn't wake herself up from. At the soldiers steering past civilians and approaching them with steel swords and open Grimoires. There were deep waters in her mind. Waters into which she did not wish to dive into nor even dip her feet within for it would extinguish her flames, but she had to … She had to at this moment.

"Hell Fire Magic..." she whispered, feeling a rush of something in her head. She outstretched her arms and she raised her chin, turned her head. She wasn't sure who the choice to do that - it didn't feel like she was the one who controlled the movement. 

It felt odd, this sensation of unhinged power. It felt like she was merely conjuring up a memory, something so familiar, yet a pale shade to actual reality. Even so, it held a strong claim over her and she continued, "...Demonic Flames of Death."

The ground below her rumbled as it caught in flames, the sound and the fire dispersing into the four directions of the compass. Blackened pearls slid along the soldiers’ skins as the flames danced to life. They crawled like worms into the soldier’s wounds, leaving them in a mess of terrorized cries and broken lip-skin and bone-white complexion until they eventually crumbled into nothing but ash.

Eirene fell back, almost toppling backwards, eyes plastered to her hands. She could barely believe that had been her creation but she didn’t hurry to deny the possibility.

"T-That form..." Ralph murmured, backing away in process. Something flashed across her features, something looking distinctly like fear, though he was not the target of flames. Then as though he remembered the severity of the situation, he once again ordered, "Please! Go! This is the last of my magic..."

"N-No. Wait!" Eirene protested, but it was too late. She stumbled backwards again, but not of her own accord. Although half-hearted, she thrashed against the wind that coursed through her. A futile effort. It lifted her up off her feet, and carried her into the darkening sky.

"Wait no!" She screamed when she saw he was still on the ground, and his self sacrificial intentions rang loud and clear now. "Ralph, wait!”

He looked at her kindly. He’d already settled on resignation. “Be safe, Lady Eireneola.”

Her lips parted to offer protest but all she could come up with was a choked sound.

 _I can take your pain away,_ the voice in her head proposed with such tenderness.

_Just succumb to me._

She bit her lip, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. "Never," she growled, her voice fracturing at the ends.

It was a dark night, and she commanded fire at her palms, but that too seemed lost in the folds of a bruised sky. The moon should arrive soon enough, Eirene thought idly, closing her eyes to rest.

When she woke next, she swore she’d been in this familiar space before. Though she could not recall when. An area completely unfamiliar, yet something about the place called out to her. She stood, familiarising herself with the lay of the land.

Through the process of elimination, she knew through the lack of natural mana, she couldn't be in the Heart Kingdom. There weren't enough dead bodies and shrieks for this to be the Diamond Kingdom. The empty feel of menacing aura told her she wasn't in the Spade Kingdom anymore. She tilted her head up at the sky, a soft sigh escaping her lips as relieved tears dripped down her chin.

This was safe. She was in the Clov -

"Who are you?"

A sharp voice made her head turn. She scrambled backwards, tripping over her own feet and crashing to the ground, crawling backwards until she hit a tree. She felt her chest tighten with panic. She was out of Mana. 

"Tell me, or I'll attack."

In front of her stood a boy her age, his glare glowering but his face twisted into a swirl of confusion. On his right palm was a void of static, something she'd never seen but was familiar with - Spatial Magic.

"I..." She started, knowing she had to choose her words carefully, "I'm Eirene.” Her own name felt unfamiliar on her tongue, “I'm... a bit lost." 

The boy stood back to examine the girl. Though her clothes had seen better days and her skin was dirty, her flaring red hair seemed completely pristine, as was the tremendous Mana he sensed within her. She wasn't a peasant. This made him ease a little.

Her eyes shone with anticipation and fear as she held up her palms but she was extremely pretty in his eyes. And he was so stunned for a moment that he momentarily forgot that he’s afraid, and cautious, and he realised the red markings around her eyes seemed oddly familiar, but he couldn't quite put a finger on it.

"Lost?" He stated, like the word was something foreign in his mouth.

She nodded her confirmation.

"I'm Eirene," she started again. "I w-was in the Spade Kingdom, and this m-man called R-Ralph d-d-died... so I just..." 

Her flustered face pinched slightly and her fingers were trembling upon the folds of her dress but she willed herself to speak. 

“I just... need some help. Okay? I was in the Spade Kingdom because... I..." She placed a hand on her forehead. Everything was turning fuzzy again. "I... I don't know. It... hurts... I can't ... I can't remember." Then her palms flew up again in response to an unspoken concern. “But I’m not lying! I'm not! I swear it.”

The boy could only stare, his lips slightly ajar and if he wasn't so taken aback, he would've helped her up already. She didn't seem weak, not in the least. She had the same, or even more Mana than a Clover Kingdom Royal, and he could feel it in his bones. It made him shudder, and nothing really made him shudder. And instantly, he found a little bud of respect already blooming. He didn’t know how she’d got here from all the way across the country, and he didn’t want to tell her he’d be able to help if it’d just become a false promise. 

The only thing he knew was her name, so he thought he might as well offer his in return.

"Okay. I'll take you to the Wizard King," he said, opening up a portal before turning back to her, "I'm Langris Vaude."


	2. Eireneola Vermillion

"We're here."

Langris pointed at the tall stature of a castle in front of them. 

"This is as far as I can go. I'm not about to barge into the King's headquarters," he explained, wondering if he ought to make greater effort. He decided against it. He knew not of this girl’s true identity, nor anything else.

"T-Thank you,” she accompanied her response with a small smile.

Upon knocking at the castle doors, Eirene was promptly greeted with a courteous man with blue hair, styled in a tidy bowl cut. When she had requested to speak with the Wizard King, he asked, 

"May I ask what business you have with the Wizard King?" and another “Are you alright?” before she could respond.

He was polite. Even to a girl like her with rags for clothes and dirt on her face. He explained that he was Marx, the King’s advisor, and she explained her situation in the most concise way she could even as her brain leaped with unstructured thoughts and ideas. She shivered under the cold breeze of the night sky as she awaited his response. 

After a moment’s consideration and a flash of bewilderment on his face, Marx ushered her into the King’s headquarters. Langris chose to stay back, careful not to overstep his boundaries.

"This is a bit of an unusual situation. I am sure that the Wizard King will be helpful!" Marx smiled encouragingly. Eirene returned his smile.

"I hope so."

They entered. 

Eirene’s eyes rested on a man, draped in royal fur and silk red garment. He had one foot out the window, and the other about to follow suit. When the doors swung open, the man held a vague trace of surprise, and a clear expression of guilt. He chuckled, dragging his body back in reluctantly. "Ah... Marx! I was just ... Enjoying the night air."

Marx only sighed. He walked over to the man. "Wizard King! Look at the paperwork you have piling up!" He jabbed an accusing finger at the stack of untouched papers, "And don't lie! Why does it look like you're about to sneak out?"

The Wizard King raised his palms in surrender as he bubbled with a low chuckle. "Alright, alright you caught me...!" 

Marx closed the window and gave him a stern look. 

"Oh, don't be so mad all the time, Marx! You'll grow old faster!"

"And whose fault is that?!"

"Well, well now, never mind that! " The Wizard King waved his hand dismissively. Then he turned to look at his guest, and his face was a mixture of curiosity and anticipation, but not without a hint of confusion. “Wait…” He trailed off, brows furrowing in deepened perplexity. Eirene wasn’t sure what it was she heard in his voice. There was a thickness to it, almost as though he knew something she didn’t.

“Ah, right!" Marx cleared his throat as he announced, "This is Eirene. It seems she's one of the only survivors from the recent attack on the Spade Kingdom," He then gestured towards the Wizard King, "Eirene, this is the 28th Wizard King of the Clover Kingdom, Julius Novachrono." 

Eirene curtsied, the light bob causing her skirt to tremble, "I-It's a pleasure."

Julius’ expression stuttered for a moment. He cocked his head to the side, almost expectantly, before electing her way, his paces even. He knelt down in front of her. "That … must have been hard. You've been very brave.” A warm smile coated his lips in something a little like worry, “You don't need to be afraid anymore. The Clover Kingdom welcomes you back with open arms."

She gazed up at him with a modicum of surprise and something she could not put a name to, and a smile bloomed upon her face. "T-Thank you! I..." And then she paused, her eyebrows knitting together in very palpable confusion, “...Welcomes me… Back?”

"Hm..." Julius produced a thoughtful sound, "Eirene, we’ve met before. We’ve met before Marx here was appointed my advisor.”

“Y-You have?!” Marx sputtered, his eyes darting from the girl to the Wizard King. “Wait, so this is…”

Eirene’s gaze trailed from Marx, to Julius. “I’m sorry, I don’t… ” she trailed off, her meaning clear even without her spelling it out. She didn’t remember. That fact remained.

Julius hummed contemplatively, “We might be able to do something about that…” He glanced at Marx, who nodded, “Marx here specialises in Memory Magic.” At that Eirene perked up. “If you will allow it, Marx may be able to return your memories to you. What do you think?”

Eirene was afraid, and even though her confusion was wide and deep, she trusted the concern in the Wizard King’s eyes.

“Yes. Yes I would like that,” Eirene finally replied, the relief distinct in her voice. “Is there...” she grabbed his finger before he could stand up, “If … If you can’t, it’s okay. If my past fails then I... I can always invent a future. I think someone told me that once, but I can't remember who.” 

There’s a determined light in her eyes, awakened by those words, like she was the one trying to comfort them. Julius laughed heartily, tipping his head back in an effort to suppress his relief. He stood. “It seems like I didn’t need to worry after all. You are exactly like your brothers and sister.”

Curious and more curious still. But Eirene knew she’d receive answers soon.

With a content smile,she closed her eyes, the last thing she saw was a calming clash of magic surrounding her body.

It was warm, Marx’s magic. She listened to it’s symphony, half-sleep, heavy lids sticking together with persistence as she tethered herself to the realm of the living, coming from her memories without. She was dreaming, or at least that's what it felt like. Fragments of chimerical illusions swarmed in her head.

When she opened her eyes a while later, she wasn’t the same person who’d closed them. She was still herself, still Eirene, but there were years and lives she didn’t live inside her head. Most of the memories still lacked the same emotion of her own, but they were still overwhelming as they tried to rattle into place. For what felt like another eternity to match the rest in her head, she could only stand still, her fingers leaning on Julius’ table for support.

“I must inform them,” Marx announced before sprinting out the door.

It wasn’t until later Eirene finally spoke, “I… remember…. I think.” She held her breath, swallowing thickly. She was filled with panic for a second when her next memory came to her, but she tried to calm herself. It made sense that Marx’s magic in her brain would work on a gradual basis rather than something abrupt. But this one hit her like an avalanche, knocking the air out of her lungs. Her entire life.

“There’s a demon inside me,” she choked up, brokenly, voice atremble with uncertain terror.

Julius knelt down next to her again, and when he saw the chaos and disarray in her eyes, he explained without her even asking. The Clover Kingdom had put forth a proposal for an alliance with the Spade Kingdom. Her parents volunteered as ambassadors.

That broke the moment they took her.

“As we speak, Magic Knights are in training, gearing up to launch an attack against Spade. It would have been our biggest attack yet. Of course there’s no need for that now, because you’ve returned,” Julius explained softly, “Your siblings were about to launch an all out attack by themselves. I can’t say I was surprised.” At that, his lips twitched into a kind smile as though a pleasant memory came to his mind.

All for her? She blinked in confusion and waited for continuation.

“Please do not blame your siblings. I forbade them from going forward with their plan. It was too dangerous,” Julius sighed, and he meant every word.

Eirene only nodded. Guilt poked at her. Had she the right to see her family? What outcome would have arisen if she hadn’t returned?

“Do you remember who they are?”

A rather loaded question.

“Not… Completely,” she admitted.

It felt like an eternity before she could extract the right memories into the right scope of her mind, and she could almost see three fuzzy figures in the fragments of her head before they completely hazed out of focus again.

Eirene blinked up at him, trying to reach harder back into the dark wall of her mind, but it was still fuzzy. All static. 

“I almost can…” She nearly whispered, and the heat in her eyes prickled because she should remember by now, right? Perhaps, the magic was taking it’s time. Yeah, that was probably it.

“It’s okay,” Julius assured, his voice gentle and firm at the same time. "Vermillion.” Eirene’s eyes widened. Her lips opened in surprise and the expression must have spread to her entire visage for Julius looked upon her with a smile, “Your name is Eireneola Vermillion. Marx has gone to fetch your siblings."

Every inch of Eirene’s body froze for one shocking, bitter winter for a moment and then bursted into a hot, blistering summer. Vermillion. That name was familiar on her tongue, and now, not so foreign anymore in her brain. She could feel it. Her memories pressing against that darkness in the vast expanse of her mind - cracking through and imprinting a permanent impression. She just needed a little push.

Her heart hammered viciously in her chest and she felt the warm trails of tears slide down her cheek.

Immediately, Julius’ wary demeanor changed into concern. He took several steps forward, his eyebrows furrowed, mouth twisted into a frown. “Are you okay? Eirene? What’s wrong?”

“My… Family.” She whispered, her throat thick with her relief, her loneliness, her fear slowly fading.

“Yes,” Julius smiled sympathetically at her. "Do you think you're ready to meet them, Eirene?" 

A shock of surprise went through her at his question. “Y-Yes,” she finally said, straightening. “W-Wait…” she said. Julius met her wide-eyed shock with a head tilt of his own.

“Yes?”

“That boy,” she pointed at the door, brows pinching in the middle, “That boy that came here with me. He must be cold. Can we bring him in?” She's been so caught up in her storm of thoughts she hadn't once stopped to consider where he came from, or how he had come to find her.

"Oh! You mean the youngest Vaude boy. I'll bring him in an instant.” Julius clicked his fingers together, and Eirene almost wished she didn’t blink because suddenly there was a sphere-like object in front of her, and within the object was Langris himself. With another click of the fingers, Langris landed on his feet slowly.

He placed three fingers on his chest, "Wizard King."

"Good evening, Langris," Julius beamed, "Thank you for bringing Eirene over to the Royal Capital. You're a very good boy."

"G-Goo-..." Langris blushed slightly at this comment and looked away, clearing his throat. "T-Thank you, Wizard King."

He turned to Eirene. "I was listening,” he confessed. He made a noise of incredulity and his face creased with concern and pity and maybe something else.

Julius gave a swift nod, signalling he had already known this fact.

Eirene shrugged, “It’s okay. That makes it easier anyways...”

"Makes what easier?" Langris asked.

She cleared her throat, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand before jutting a palm out. “I'm Eireneola Vermillion. I want to say with all my heart… Thank you!" 

And she felt brave tonight, braver than she’d felt in a long time according to her current scope of memories, so she crossed the space between them to pull him in a hug. 

He froze, his body tensing, "W-Why are you squeezing me with your body?"

While Julius chuckled to himself, Eirene pressed against him even tighter, "It's a hug, Langris. I'm hugging you. You're supposed to put your arms around me too."

“H-Huh?” His brain caught up to his mouth and some part of him twitched nervously. And then the realisation sank in. “W-Wait. Vermillion?” He immediately pulled away, gaze moving to her face hastily and uncertainly. He dipped into an awkwardly shallow bow, “Uh… Lady Eire-”

“No,” she cut him off absent hesitation, smacking him on the head. For a moment she pulled away in confusion, staring at her hand reprimandingly but it had felt like something so natural. “Don’t call me that. Friends don’t need formalities. Okay?”

“Friends?” His face scrunched up in confusion and it overwrote the pain on his head. “But you know nothing about me.”

“That’s why I want to be friends with you. So we can get to know each other!” She looked at him intently, and Langris found comfort in those soft blue eyes of hers. It seemed to be reflecting flecks of gold striking from within beams and shafts.

“....Okay,” he managed. Hearing that made him feel full of light, like he was weightless and warm and a little happy, even though the situation was beyond confusing and overwhelming.

"They're here," Julius interrupted, lifting his gaze to the chamber doors.

They swung open, revealing Marx and three others - a woman with unruly hair similar to hers, a boy with a diamond shaped mark on his forehead, piggybacking a little boy holding pinpoint resemblance to the rest of them. They each had the same red markings around their eyes, and the same flaming red hair.

"E-Eireneola?" The woman breathed, disbelief swarming in her voice. Eirene caught sight of a sharp, pronounced canine tooth when she spoke. Instinctively, her hand went to her lips. She looked like her. More beautiful, more fiercely iridescent, but the similarity was certainly present.

The boy's mouth dropped open, and he paled like he'd just seen a ghost. "M-Mereo..." He tilted his head to look at his sister, tears drawing at the edges of his eyes. 

The woman's eyes never left her, her features suspended between grief and joy. Seconds pass, her brain taking her in, struggling to comprehend that she wasn't one of the portraits hung in the Vermillion residence, that she was real. 

"Eh? Aniue? Who's that...?" The youngest one questioned, glancing from one of his siblings to the other, "Aneue?"

Eirene averted her eyes before the urge to cry well up in her again. That boy was still a fetus the last she heard of him and his name is Leopold, she thought, and he didn't look the least bit familiar because she didn’t get to see him grow. She wondered when he learnt how to walk and talk and crawl and cry. 

And she looked at the older boy, and he cared about her too, she thought. She wondered how much of this debilitating disappointment she’d have to feel before she didn’t feel like she was going to crumble in pieces. How could she have forgotten? 

He stared at her, taking a hesitant step forward, "E...Eirene…” He quickly rushed to her side, out of breath and his eyes bloodshot, like he’d either been crying or not getting enough sleep. His red hair was a disheveled mess too. 

The heavy weight of arms around her made Eirene’s muscles tense. It was warm, though, and comforting, so the sudden bolt of unsureness, of fear, quickly melted back into the puddle of self-disdain and longing she was currently wallowing in. “I’m sorry...” She shuddered as a roll of guilt heaved in her stomach. 

“No, it’s… It’s okay… You’re safe now,” he said, and his voice was a gentle rumble even though he sounded on the verge of tears himself. “It’s okay if you don’t remember me yet. I’m Fuegoleon Vermillion, your -”

“Older brother,” she breathed out. And she met his eyes to give him a reassuring look and a watery smile, “I know. I remember… Or, I’m starting to at least.”

The woman came next, turning Eirene’s attention fully on her and she looked so… Crestfallen that it almost hurt. 

"Do you remember me?" The woman asked, and Eirene wanted to say yes, she could feel it in her bones because this woman was important to her because the sight of her triggered an immediate sense of safety in Eirene. 

Her knees felt like jelly and she choked out a small cry. “M-Mereo…!” She stumbled, nearly tumbling to the ground with a yelp but Mereoleona caught her by the arm and pulled her in. 

“Mereo…” Eirene choked out again, her voice downy soft, verging on breakable. She reciprocated the hug, her arms wrapping around Mereoleona’s legs as she sunk her face against her body. 

“You fool… Getting us all worried like that,” Mereoleona’s hands settled gently against her back. Violent anger burning in her veins, she growled, “I’ll kill those bastards if they ever set foot in our country. I’ll rip them apart if they even so much lay another finger on you.”

Beside them, Leopold nonsensical noises, soothing sounds and echoed, "You're okay."

In too much of a shock to react or say anything, Eirene just nodded vigorously, the tears in her eyes overspilling, a broken little hitch of a sob catching in her throat. 

"I guess official introductions are in order," the Wizard King chimed in softly, "Eirene. This is your older sister, Mereoleona, your older brother, Fuegoleon, and your younger brother, Leopold."

"Welcome home, Eirene," Fuegoleon said in between tears.

"Don't cry, idiot," Mereoleona scolded before turning her attention back to Eirene. She was scowling but her expression was fragile. "Welcome home."


	3. Royals, Nobles, and Peasants

_ **Present Day** _

Had it been anyone else, she probably would have sliced their head off to deliver a clean cut before moving on to the next. As it was, she reminded herself that this was practice, and that she definitely should not murder her friend, albeit accidentally.

She raised the tip of the blade until it brushed the underside of the boy's chin. "I could kill you just by leaning forward, you know," she said, "It would be easy."

The boy's eyes grew wide for a few good seconds before he blinked slowly, his smirk forming upon his face, an amused glint in his eyes, "You won't."

The girl twisted the blade, eyes siding sideways to make eye contact before letting her weapon down, "Are you stupid? Of course I won't."

He cocked a brow. “You sure? I’m literally bleeding.”

She glanced down, and indeed there was blood, “Shit, I'm sorry.” Then she grinned. "At least I didn't kill you. You're welcome!"

"Excuse me -" He was cut short by a happy shout a distance away, loud steps of a certain endearing Vermillion being made known.

"Aneue!" 

The girl's blazing red hair blew in the wind as she whipped her head back, "Yes, Leo?" 

"The exam is about to commence!” Leopold announced, not bothering to rest before he swiveled in another direction, "Oh crap! I'm late for my training... See you, Aneue! Vice Captain Langris!"

The girl slapped a hand to her forehead. She had forgotten. Thank goodness for her fervent ball of a brother. 

"Thanks! I'll head over now," she called after Leopold's retreating figure, waving him off. She turned back to her companion with a smirk, putting away her weapon, "How many wins is that for me now, Langris? Twenty to zero?"

The boy in question snickered, wiping imaginary dust off his silk woven outfit, "You mean fifty to zero, in my favor?"

"I literally just won.”

He hummed, "Perhaps I only let you."

“Oh my! How kind of you!” She exclaimed, grin widening as she rolled her eyes, gaze falling upon him in the process. "I assure you I don’t need a handicap." She picked up her satchel and adjusted the cloak on her shoulders,

"What - So you could cry like that time I accidentally scraped your arm with a fork?" Langris retorted, the memory vivid in his head. He shuddered at the recollection of Mereoleona’s blistering glare.

"Hey! It was a sharp fork! The butlers just polished the silverware, okay? And, I was eight!" She said defensively. Her face reddened in an almost comical manner at his teasing and she pouted. “Eight!”

"Whatever you say, _Lady_ Eirene," he said, in such an obviously derisive tone, going as far as dipping into a bow.

She rolled her eyes, and shoved him away playfully, "That's right. I'm royalty, so you better show some respect." Then she blanched, making a face as she chuckled, “Gosh, I sound like the Solid and Nebra.”

They started to make their way towards the Exam venue, stopping at market stalls along the way and at one point - helping a lost child as he wailed for his mother. And of course - with the signature red marks around her eyes and the infamous Crimson Lion Kings cape, people from all around would dip into shallow (and some extremely deep) bows as they walked past. No matter how much they fretted over her (although it seemed more like annoying than fretting persay, at least according to Langris), it would always elicit a smile from her. How she had enough patience to do so, he had no idea.

As she bit into an omelette, she paused as if her thoughts had stopped entirely, "This tastes amazing!” She offered him a bit, “Try it.”

He raised his hand and tilted his head away. "I don't like commoner food."

"Oh, shut up! Just try it! I command you." She said the word 'command' slowly, deliberately. He finally relented, but not without a pinch of annoyance, because Eirene seemed to use her title and power over him during the most ridiculous arguments. ‘I command you to bring me an egg’, or ‘I command you to drink water with me because you haven’t drank enough'.

They arrived at the exam venue. People were chattering looking about with curious eyes, rising voices. A domino effect of nervosity and enthusiasm. She caught a boy’s stare. _How strange. He had absolutely no Mana,_ she thought.

"He's a peasant," Langris said, as if he was somehow attuned to her thoughts, "What a failure."

"Hey, maybe he has potentia -'' Eirene stopped when she bumped into something. She turned her head. “H...Hi?” She said a little uncertainly to a girl she was now nose to nose with.

"Lady Eirene! It's a pleasure to meet you!" The girl squealed, trying to press herself even closer to Eirene.

Eirene must have had a look of incredulity on her face because the girl stepped back, her head dipped in shame as she bowed impeccably. "I’m sorry for invading your personal space! I- I hope I grow as strong as you someday!"

“No, no, you don’t have to bow - “ Eirene tried, before her voice was interjected again.

"Hey, that's Vice Captain Eirene from the Crimson Lion Kings!" Another boy nudged his friend in the corner.

"Woah, she's pretty!"

"Yeah, but I heard she's crazy stubborn and crazy strong -"

"Stubborn?" Eirene's ears perked up, and her mouth dropped open. 

Langris entertained their audience with a look that could have frozen them over. “Who do you all think you are, talking to a Vice Captain like that?” 

"W-Wait, but being stubborn isn't bad!" Eirene piped up. Then, at the look Langris gave her, her hands flew up and she chuckled, “Sorry, sorry! I’m on your side, I swear!”

"Being stubborn isn't bad at all!" An even louder voice shouted over her, and to her left was a short boy flying with sparks of energy and excitement bright in his eyes. Langris’ eyes narrowed immediately, and he thought, this was way too much excitement for one small peasant boy, my god.

Eirene turned to look at him and realised he was the same boy she had locked eyes with little earlier. The only difference now was that he had attracted a flock of Anti-birds. Although one by one, they dismounted as he drew closer to her.

"Exactly!” She grinned, head tilting sideways, “Eh… Who are you again?" 

"I'm Asta. Asta from Hage!" He responded enthusiastically.

"Okay, Asta from Hage, why do you want to join the Magic Knights?" She asked with a smile, already growing fond of the interest and enthusiasm he showed, though she still found it very strange that he held no magic in that body of his. But then again, that wasn't a crime. She decided against pondering the matter any further.

"To become the Wizard King, of course!" He answered confidently, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

His notion seemed to amuse her and inspire her at the same time. Her grin flared to life. "I'm looking forward to it then, Asta from Hage." She didn’t need to look back to know Langris’ eyes were rolling to the back of his head endlessly.

"Hey! Who do you think you're talking to, idiot? Do you even know who she is, bah-hah?!" Another boy emerged from the crowd. He placed a hand on Asta's shoulder before plunging into an angled bow, "Bah-hah, my name is Sekke Bronzazza! You may call me Sek! It's a pleasure to be of your acquaintance, Lady Eireneola."

She laughed, "Pleasure is mine, I suppose."

"Bah-hah! You are as kind and beautiful as they say." 

She shook her hand dismissively, "Oh, you flatter me. Anyways, I should probably - " She cut herself short as she met Langris' eyes and he gave her a look of dismay, a full show of impatience and thinly veiled annoyance.

So abandoning her initial plan to join the other Captains and Vice Captains, she smiled sweetly, reaching out for Langris wrist and tugged him close, "By the way, Asta. Have you met the Vice Captain of the Golden Dawn?" 

“What are you doing?” Langris hissed, floundering against her grip.

"W-What?! So you're both Vice Captains?! That's so cool!" Asta marveled, bobbing his head in apparent praise and wonder, "Oh, oh! Have you met my friend, Yuno?! He's also from Hage. He’s my Rival…! We're both going to become the next Wizard King!" Now it was his turn to drag over a reluctant boy towards them. A stark contrast to Asta - from his appearance to his expressions to the way he carried himself.

"Uh..." The boy nodded at Eirene and Langris awkwardly, "My name is Yuno."

“Bah-hah! Another peasant,” Sekke stated with a scoff.

Langris bit back the urge to groan in frustration, for he had a lack of interest in speaking to peasants and the like. He tugged on Eirene’s arm, "This is a waste of time. Let's _go_." But the moment they swiveled on their heel, they were met with a familiar face.

"Oh? What a nice royal you are," Solid snickered, his gaze lazily flicking over to the boys behind them, "Making nice with …” He paused deliberately to lace his last word with enmity, “Peasants."

Behind her, Asta whispered (not so subtly) to Sekke, "Oi! Who the heck is this rude person?", in which the latter smacked his head, "Bah-hah, you're such an idiot! Let's slowly move away. He's royalty."

"Solid," Eirene said flatly.

"Eirene, Langris," he greeted, matching her tone, "So? Where are your new friends?"

"They're right..." She trailed off, noticing no one was beside her anymore. She gave Solid a sarcastic look, "Well, look what you did. You scared them off."

Langris added with a light scoff, "Friends? Please."

“Right?” Solid added, “You show some small favour to those peasants and they get the silly notion in their heads that they’re equal to you.”

“Oh, not this again,” Eirene groaned before she could stop herself. Usually she’d feign blissful ignorance. Langris and Solid together made a frighteningly impossible combination sent from the depths of hell itself. But seeing as she’d already blurted, she went on, “In a way, we are. See, for example, we are all born naked and alone.”

Langris gave her a long look before bursting into a laugh. "Odd example to take. I doubt we’ll die alone though.”

Solid laughed too, but it’s hard and sarcastic, “Exactly. We’ll have family and esteemed people.”

“And they have family and friends too, so I’m sure they won’t die alone,” she countered softly, “Or naked, at least.”

Solid hummed, “Seems like the Vermillions are getting a little _soft._ ”

“Nonsense. Kindness does not equal to softness. Would you like me to show you?” Eirene offered, her tone lacing with malice, the flames on her fingers brimming with alacrity, “Surely you aren’t afraid.”

Being from a Royal family herself, it was almost a given that Eirene had met the other two - the House of Silva and the House of Kira, the latter, which she didn't particularly like. So when she wasn't training with her siblings, she'd be at the Silva residence, always curious to see Nozel's mercury magic. And at times, she'd be finding new ways to braid Solid's hair or losing terribly in a board game with Nebra. And of course, there was the usual friendly competitions, just like this one ...

“Oh? It’s starting,” Solid pointed out, effectively changing the topic, and just like that, their discussion was consigned into the wind. Eirene could sense a degree of smug satisfaction inside her.

“Thought so,” she mumbled under her breath, her flames retreating into wisps of smoke. 

The Captains took their seats, and the three of them followed, taking their respective places as the exam drew to a start.

“I would like you to train any new recruits this year, Eirene,” Fuegoleon said, and it brooked no arguments from her. 

“Great! I’ll whip them into shape.”

Fuegoleon smiled at that. “You sound exactly like your sister.”

Then Eirene saw him shift in his seat, trying to hide his clear-as-day excitement as Captain Vangeance announced the last stage.

"Please find a partner to spar against, and you may commence. There are healing Mages around, so you may fight to your heart's content.” 

"Who do you think will win the match?" Eirene whispered to Langris, who was on her right.

"The non-peasant," Langris replied curtly. "Is that even a question?" 

"Fine. I bet you two cherry tarts," Eirene said, holding her hand out.

Langris stared at it for a moment before his lips tugged into a lazy smirk, "Deal."

And of course the match went in her favor. She was quite confident of her foresight - it was by no means bad, and she's always loved a gamble. What would anyone expect - after nights of poker faces and intense gambling sessions with Mereoleona and Fuegoleon?

"Yes! Go Asta!" She cupped her hand to her cheeks and shouted. This earned a questioning look from Fuegoleon and she smiled at him, “I won a bet.”

Then she turned to Langris, her smile widening, “Hey -” But when her eyes actually locked onto his, she felt her face grow hot and her tongue tied into butterfly knots, "W-Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" He asked, slightly taunting.

“Like…”

Her palms rushed to her cheeks and she responded, "Like that! ... Do I have something on my face or… ?" 

He shook his head and cast his gaze away. “A pair of eyes, a nose and a mouth. There’s something called a mirror, you know.”

Eirene wrinkled her nose, a huff escaping her slightly parted lips. “Oh, shut up.” The burn of her blush had started to retreat. “Anyways…” She began, then she grinned, no longer abashed. “I won the bet! And… “

“There’s an and?” Langris asked.

“And… While we’re at it, do you wanna admit you lost our previous match too?" 

_Albeit a trivial matter, but you’re probably the only person I’d ever say these words to,_ he thought. Because he had too much pride, too much honour, to ever bow to anyone, but she was someone who’d stand against insurmountable odds and come out the other side with armour for skin. So if someone were to ask - not that anyone would - who he would ride into a calamity with, then it would probably be her because she would stand straight and unblinking in the middle of a storm without peril to her wellbeing.

Not that anyone would ask.

“Fine.”

“Go on then,” she urged, her smile widening a fraction. He blinked slowly before offering his answer.

“...You win.” He said with great difficulty. Then he added for good measure, and because his pride had won this round yet again. “Because I never know what to do when you cry.” But she kept smiling up at him, and she looked so genuinely happy for a moment that Langris almost forgot to be embarrassed.

He let a small smile settle on his features and sighed, but it sounded in good humor, “Come on. Let’s get some cherry tarts.”


	4. Flashback: Pinky Promise

Eirene wasn't a fan of ballgowns. In fact, she wasn't a fan of balls or gowns in general. But today her hair was piled upon her head, pinned in place with glittering adornments, a shimmering ruby-coloured gown over her body, because red was associated with the Vermillions.

It matched her siblings' dark red outfits too, and even little Leopold was suitably outfitted in a small tux of his own. His normally wild hair was carefully combed into order, a tie carefully knotted at his throat. Mereoleona was nowhere to be seen - rejecting the offer of wearing a gown or making an appearance at a celebration so elegant because that would be uncharacteristic of her.

It was a once in a year annual ball, where the Clover Kingdom extends an invitation to another kingdom - a potential for an alliance with their Nobles and Royals. Last year it was Heart, this year it was Diamond. It was a festivity thrown by King Kira Clover himself, although he was nowhere to be seen.

Six year old Leopold loosened his grip on his sister's ball gown and propelled himself through the crowded room, reaching here and there for food and attention all the whilst making friends. 

Eirene followed after Fuegoleon, and people turned their heads, approaching in a shuffle of heels and a low murmur of welcome. Eirene's eyebrows furrowed at the women who oggled her brother shamelessly, trying to earn his affection in the most ridiculous ways. Eirene was only ten, but it hadn’t taken long for her to catch on to how much status mattered in this kingdom, how far the word 'Royalty' could take someone. And of course, being associated with Royalty, meant you attracted suitors from all around.

Eirene watched Nozel approached Fuegoleon, taking no time to engage in a fruitful conversation, and she locked eyes with Solid. She grinned at him but there was now color high and bright in her cheeks. He stared at her blankly before his lips twitched into a similarly shaped grin. He wore a dark blue suit, and of course he did, because blue was often associated with the Silvas.

And Nebra with her sharp eagle eyes smirked at this small, voiceless interaction. And she pulled Eirene to the side quickly and said, "For the last time, just tell him like a normal human being. You both are Royals. There's nothing to be ashamed of."

"W-Wh-What are you talking about?" Eirene stuttered then, voice wobbling like crazy. She batted her eyelashes innocently, feigning innocence, but Nebra was older, and her senses were much better polished.

"Look. My brother asked the servants to braid his hair the same way you had done it last time," Nebra pointed out, and sure enough he was. "You need to make up your mind," Nebra continued, too pleased and too amused by Eirene's reaction. She readjusted her royal blue gown, her eyes sparkling a deeply vibrant colour, "Or are you still pining over that other boy?"

Eirene blushed at the implication. She was a hundred percent sure the answer was yes, and a hundred and ten percent sure Nebra was referring to Langris. 

She’d always thought him different from other boys. This was evident when she had actually _met_ other boys - the Silvas, the other Nobles of Clover Kingdom. Honestly, it was glaringly obvious to anyone who had half a brain. He wasn't just some boy who'd talk to anyone, who'd make friends with anyone, who trusted anyone. Who cared about anyone.

Her brain stuttered unintelligibly as she tried to put her emotions into words. Ten years old and still yet to figure things out, she reminded herself to ask Mereoleona or Fuegoleon later what being in love meant. 

"Er… No..." Eirene managed to drawl out when she realised she’d been silent for too long. 

“Really?” Nebra cocked a brow, not buying it for one second. She rested her hand on her hip and blew her bangs out of her eyes, as they flicked over to Solid, “My silly little brother blushes all the time when I talk about you.”

Eirene found that she got along quite well with the eldest Silva sister. While Mereoleona showered her with an avalanche of tough love, Nebra coddled her a little more, and taught her things that a more ... normal sister would. Manipulation. Teasing. Introductions to boys 101. Womanly charms. And that’s only the tip of the iceberg.

At the thought of Langris though, Eirene stood on her tippy toes as her eyes scanned the entire room for a familiar mob of hair and her ears perked when she heard the sound of a familiarly smug voice. 

She wasn’t sure where he was in the midst of towering adults and gleeful chatter, so her eyes wandered around at the view before her instead. Men with silk ties and pocket squares. Expensive cufflinks, fine watches. Arms around women with fine gowns, expensive gems. Gloved hands, secretive smiles.

One of those women sauntered over to her with loud steps. She bent slightly so as to bring herself closer in height to Eirene.

"Hello, honey. Aren't you the girl from the Spade Kingdom?" Her voice was coated with faux honey. 

This elicited the slight tilt of a head from Eirene. "I... guess," she replied, somewhat questioningly. What a strange question.

"Oh? Are you sure you're Clover royalty?"

“What?” Eirene blurted before her brain could even digest the words. She wasn’t sure she’d understood half of what the woman said. Her eyes flickered to where her elder brother was a moment ago. He was no longer there, neither was the eldest Silva.

"Hey-" Nebra started only to be cut short by another woman.

"Yeah, are you sure you're a Vermillion?” Said woman chided derisively, “Maybe all that red on your eyes is make up.” She strolled forward, fishing out a handkerchief from her bag. “Do you want to wipe that makeup off, sweetie?” 

“M-Make up?” Eirene echoed, surprise flashing across her features. “It's not, I assure you,” she replied as best she could to the impertinent lady whose eyes narrowed in distaste. 

But they only laughed at her response. Not the sort of laughter signalling amusement. A bitter sound, meant to mock. “And why would we believe a monstrosity like you, demon?”

The slow burn of a violent blush spread across Eirene’s cheeks, plunging down beneath the neckline of her dress. She cleared her throat and stood there, at a loss. The woman offered a brief sharp smile of triumph before she took a sip of her drink. Then she swirled the contents of her cup before rejoining the conversation, "Aw, don't look so sad darling. We're only trying to protect your family from a monster."

Eirene's shoulders stiffened. Her heart was aching strangely in her chest, and even though her voice felt a bit stuck, she made sure that when she took a step forward, her heels scuffled against the tiles. "That's -"

"That is the most absurd thing I've ever heard."

Eirene had swiveled her head around to look at who had cut her off, blush warming her cheeks steadily as she came nose to nose with a boy she didn't expect to encounter till much later. 

She blinked in surprise, mouth a small 'oh' of shock. "Langris?"

"How dare you speak like that to a Clover Royal?!" Solid demanded, turning Eirene’s attention to him.

Water from champagne glasses shot out like splinters of tiny shards and pebbles, wrapping themselves around Solid's hands. Startled yelps left people’s lips, their attention drawn towards the commotion. Mist then wafted over the room on a harsh breeze, freezing like pinpricks of needles catching against skin. Nebra had her Grimoire in front of her, her eyes narrowed and her voice seething as she said, "Apologise."

Eirene wrapped her arms around herself and her mouth parted as she wondered if she was possibly hallucinating. Nebra, Solid and Langris. Three people known for their pride and self indulgence and honor and dignity. And here they were, defending **her** pride and honor and dignity. She scrubbed furiously at the gathering tears in her eyes with both hands and tried a smile, but it fit abnormally false on her face.

“It’s fine, guys,” she tried, and her voice came out steady, but none of them looked ready to relent. Not even Solid, who was usually a scaredy-cat come these kinds of situations, but his eyes were warm and dark and wild and it was a look she’d never seen before on him.

Langris tore his gaze away from her to glare back out at the crowd, a peal of his magic shaking the concrete structure of the banquet hall. He inhaled sharply, trying to calm down the noise inside his head. Why wasn’t she defending herself? This was the same girl who once offered to burn someone’s hand when they had said Langris was weak.

It was a few months ago.

_She had beamed up at his bully and asked them to do a "science experiment". Setting fire to a hand, versus setting fire to a water and oil coated hand to tell the difference. Of course the bully had wavered and asked if it would burn his hands._

_And she had said with merciless tenacity, “Yes, just one hand. It’s fine, you have two.” She had set up flames ablaze on her palms too, to emphasize her offer._

_The bully didn’t volunteer. And he never bothered Langris ever again._

Not that Langris had many bullies to begin with. It was mostly vile old ladies who liked to gossip. And even if he did have bullies, he’d never get a chance to do anything because she’d always step up and threaten to burn them to a crisp.

So he wondered now, why. Why, why, why she was letting this whole ordeal play out this way.

A woman with a bejeweled cape and tall needle heels strode over to them as if she was someone of the utmost importance. She tipped her head, and Eirene could immediately smell the pungent stench of perfume drenching the air. The woman spoke, deliberately slowly and exaggeratedly, 

"We're royalty of the Diamond Kingdom, so watch your mouth, you little brats." This led the other diamond nobles to erupt in murmurs of their own.

“That’s right!”

"Not to mention, Solid and Nebra Silva are only children...? I heard they’re really terrible, you know..."

“Oh, so all Clover Royalty is dreadful, you mean?”

"Yeah, and that Vaude boy isn’t even Royal. He looks down on people too, what an awful boy… He’s probably not that strong against our -"

Eirene couldn’t help the burst of flames at her fingertips. She heard someone gasp from far away. Another scoffed rancorously.

"Why … are you doing this?... What do you know about us?" She seethed. She spoke with stilted slowness, choking on her words like it was venom. Fire dripped down her fingers, black like ink, flicking out embers like tiny shooting stars. She glared up at them with steely resolve, “You can talk behind my back, to my face even, but don’t talk about my friends like that.”

"Oh, look at that magic. Violent like the Spade demons," one of the women tittered. She reached out again, seemingly fascinated with Eirene's one canine tooth when she bared her fangs at her. 

"Hey, lady. You should keep your hands to yourself," Langris warned. He snapped the woman's hands away. The more irritation welled up inside him, the more dangerous spheres of static black ebbed around him. The idea of potentially attacking crossed his mind.He could release them like divine missiles. They would explode, and that would perhaps shut them up. It would probably render them unable to talk or move for a while, but that was the same thing, right?

“I didn’t know the Diamond Kingdom was so rude,” Solid said, an incredulous smile of disdain curling on his lips.

"Yeah, they really are rude people, aren’t they?" Langris’ expression took the last step into being a snarl. “She’s not a cage animal. Move away.”

The women only scoffed. They turned to their husbands, simmering with anger and whining like kids who had their toys taken away from them. When the men didn't pay them any attention, the leader of the pack marched forward, "I'll teach you how to tread adults, you Clover brats. Ice Magic -"

Langris' magic vibrated along his skin in increasing resonance, and he threw it, violently scraping against skin and dwindling the ice into nothingness. She screamed at the unexpected obliteration of her fruitless attempt.

"You disrespectful child! How dare you, how dare you, how dare you?!" She shrilled, nostrils flaring, body convulsing, "Didn't your parents ever teach you manners?! I guess the rumours were right, it appears you may not be as weak as your older brother, but you are even worse. What a shame -"

Eirene cocked her head to the side, a dark shadow passing over her features."Hey. Didn't I just tell you not to talk about my friends like that?" The outburst was sudden, Langris' eyes widening in slight shock at the sound of real offense in Eirene's voice. Although this, right now, seemed more like the Eirene he knew. 

“Why are you doing this?” Eirene nearly growled the sentence out, her hand itching to actually shoot out fire to silence this woman's intimidation tactics. "You know nothing about Langris, or me, or Solid or Nebra."

Everyone fell into a spell of silence. Eirene’s glare only grew in intensity.

"... We’re all here to celebrate and have a peaceful evening. How dare you talk that way to my friends? They’re Royals and Nobles of the Clover Kingdom, for God's sake!” She shook her head, an incredulous sigh escaping her lips, “How dare you come into our country and spit out terrible words. And you have the nerve to say something about violence?! Do you even realise what you people are doing in your trials -"

There was a hand clenched firmly at her shoulder, warm and steady unlike herself and she was being pulled away gently, and then she realised that her orange embers started to ease in a little because she was in the presence of her elder brother.

"Why don't we all take a step back for a moment?"

"Fuego," she startled. This must be a shocking sight for him, she thought, four kids, waves of mist and heat radiating from the ground, pools of false water shining around limbs, discs of spatial magic weaving into existence, and spreading veins of light and fire through his little sister's arms. An orchestra with treacherous flamboyance. _Jesus_. Fuegoleon made a mental note to tell his elder sister about this. 

"You four," Nozel addressed, "Let the adults handle this." Nozel disliked cutting fights that weren’t his own so often, but this had gone on long enough. While the two kingdoms weren't exactly on best terms, they were usually polite enough to have small talk before tearing each other to shreds. Not to mention this time they had attempted to tarnish the Silva name.

"Y-Yes, Brother Nozel," Solid and Nebra murmured, their magic dissipating slowly. 

"L-Langris! My little Langris, what are you doing?" A woman appeared by Langris' side, brushing loose locks of hair out of his face and rubbing his face with exaggerated gentleness.

“Mother,” Langris addressed airily.

“Lady Vaude,” Eirene addressed, earning the woman’s attention. She bowed, “I started it, so please don’t get angry at Langris.”

And when she rose from her bow, the woman looked properly shocked, trying her best to stammer through a thorough apology. “N-No, Lady Eireneola, please. No apologies necessary. Thank you for being so kind to my son.” And she bowed to the young girl.

And this, to Langris, was the most egregious sight he’d ever seen. Eirene didn’t need to keep herself so composed. To a Royal, a fellow Noble was usually not worth the effort and certainly not in need of impressing. But she was doing it now, just like she had countless times in the past.

"Eirene," Fuegoleon repeated, his tone riding on a warning. But that emotion was slowly bleeding into concern.

"...I know," Eirene punctuated this statement by letting her fire fizzle out of existence. Flashing her audience one last brief smile, she turned on her heel and weaved through the clouds. Langris followed suit, his eyes still cold and sharp at the Diamonds. 

They settled on a much quieter place outside the ballroom. Eirene leaned on the glass window, staring down at the woven tapestry of cities and forests. She shifted in her seat, kicking off her heels and pulling her knees to her chest. A wistful sigh escaped her lips as she began to relax.

Then she turned her head to meet Langris' eyes and she broke into a grin for the first time in a while. Slightly embarrassed by the previous fiasco but too adrenalized to care, she let out a weak laugh, "Thanks for stepping up for me. You didn't have to." And then she noticed how tidy he looked today. A suit white and gold, his tie a soft pastel colour. There was a faint pattern of gold stars scattered over it, and she couldn't help but think it accentuated the tones of the blue in his eyes. "You look really nice," she added.

He hummed in acknowledgement, a lazy smile curving his lips. His eyes flickered to her a moment before setting them back on the horizon, "You do too." He paused, "... I guess." And he wanted to look at her again, but this was somehow a matter of pride.

"Thanks!" She beamed, her cheeks cherry blossom pink. "And don't worry about those people. They don't know what they're talking about, okay?"

"Of course they don’t," he huffed, the edges of his lips spreading into a confident smile. 

But then he felt strange, because he realised his eyes were feeling suspiciously hot, almost like he might cry and he was ... so so, so, confused. Being protected shouldn’t have been so fragile a feeling, at least he never would have anticipated it.

His parents had never done that, they only cared if he was strong enough. In fact, his mother had looked about ready to beg and apologise.

But he’d only met this girl a few years ago,and he started to wonder when exactly they crossed that invisible border between acquaintances and friends.

When did he feel the unwanted irritation springing inside of him back then? Irritation that bordered on anger, even. She had looked so torn. So... lost. And he had recognized that look. It was a look he recognised in his reflection sometimes, if he really looked. He'd always casted it away, because emotions didn't matter. They weren't important, not to his parents, therefore not to him. 

But she had stood up for him, even though she had no reason to. And that made him think that maybe, for a split second, that his parents were wrong, all wrong.

Was this what it felt like to be protected?

It's a bit quiet now as they stared at the blotches of light down below, and other people just turned into background noise. He usually reveled in solitude, always good on his own. He found himself forgetting that a little right now, with her by his side. There was a warmth in his chest, and he didn’t really know what to do with it.

"There!" There was a split second itch-inducing pain that snapped Langris out of his thoughts.

"What was that for?" He cried, his hands shooting to his head where he felt the prick. He raised a brow, when she plucked out one of her own hair too, looking extremely proud as she did so.

"What are you doing?" He questioned. Moving her fingers with practiced silence and grace, she twirled their hairs together to shape them into one combined thing. 

"You've saved me twice already now," she muttered, eyebrows scrunched together in focus as she carried on with her ridiculous project. "Well, you saved my life actually. So I'm grateful, and right now, I'm showing you that I am."

"With ... Hair?" He asked, for verification, because what?

She nodded.

Eirene trusted the knowledge her own fingers could seek, so she knew that despite the frowns and sharp angles of Langris' face, his skin was soft. His lips were chapped, revealing half healed cuts that broke raw and red but she wondered if he didn't fix it because he was accustomed to happiness being paired with difficulty and pain.

This somewhat hurt her and she made a resolve to fix them, but later. For now…

She stuck her pinky up in his direction, and through furrowed brows and questioning eyes, he interlaced his little finger with hers. 

“What are we promising?” He asked, and he wondered if he should have asked before he hooked their fingers together. She had woven the strands of hair she’d plucked into a braid. She wrapped it around their entwined fingers. 

"If you burn, I will burn with you," she said, lighting fire to their enlocked fingers.

“What are you doing?!” He sputtered, but with his question hanging between them, he took the time to actually analyse the image before his eyes. 

He winced when the prickles of pins and needles coarse through his fingers and veins, but he didn’t get let go. Instead, he pressed on tighter.

All he could do was stare in awe at the flesh and fire and wayward hairs because the gold and silver rolling off their fingers should have burnt through muscle and tendon at this point but they have not. When he tipped his head up, he came to face a brilliant smile and shining eyes, and he wondered if he could imprint into his memory the way she was looking at him right now.

"I hereby pinky promise on this hair and these flames to save your butt whenever you're in trouble.”

And now she was looking at him like there were galaxies in his eyes that only she could see, or like he’d hung the moon in the night sky. It made him nervous.

Langris couldn't find it in him to refuse, and so he just burst into laughter. And it held nothing but vibrant amusement, with a little thread of incredulity. 

"That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

And as the years passed, he found himself drawn towards her, bit by bit. It took much convincing over the years on his part, but at one point, he vowed he'd tried to uphold the image she held of him.

"Okay. I promise too."


	5. A Beach Story

"Wouldn't that be beautiful?" She murmured in his ear, "The whole world under my control."

He struggled to keep his face nonchalant and composed, "And this goes beyond saying that I'll be enslaved under your creepy mind control too?"

She whirled around and smiled, "Of course not. But wait.” She leaned in close to him, “Who’s to say you’re not already?”

Langris immediately did his best to school his features, not wanting to give Eirene the satisfaction of his reactions. Then she pulled away and laughed, "Kidding. Wouldn’t you want to have the world under your control?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted, brows scrunching together in thought. "Who’s to say it’s not already?"

"If so, you’re doing a crappy job at it," She said, fumbling with the book in her hands.

He leaned against a nearby table, shifting a few stack of books further away, "What brought this on?”

She held up a small scroll, “This says your soul continues fighting under mind control, and it’s a little like you’re locked in a tiny room with no way out, you know? It weakens your defences and makes you vulnerable.” She tucked the scroll away within the cabinets. “Good news is people are usually pretty strong in the face of adversity if they have hope.”

“I guess. Hey, just checking... but your demon _is_ under control….” He paused, “Right?”

"Yes sir," she grinned, flashing her big thumb up, "You’ll know if it’s not, trust me." 

She flipped her book open and skimmed over it’s contents quickly, "Anyways, we're supposed to be finding a solution to Mana Skin. So, chop chop!"

Slumping down onto the chair, Langris wondered how the hell he had gotten roped into this. They were supposed to be at Raque beach by now. Not holed up in the Vermillion Royal library.

Propping his elbow on the table and resting his head on his hands, his eyes darted over the etched words in front of him. _Mana Skin. How to, Where to, When to._

Eirene walked around the room, tracing the leather of the books with her finger, as she examined each one of them.

"Mana... Introductory... History... Ah! Mana Skin in Water!" She clawed the book out of the shelf, waving it around like a trophy, "This one is perfect!"

"Sure, add that to the ten books we still have to read," he grumbled, glancing at the overbearing stack of books, "I'm sure your family has at least a hundred more." 

"Fuego likes to read before he learns, hence this massive library," Eirene shrugged, "Mereo, Leo prefer practicality, and I prefer both." She dropped the books she held onto the pile and dusted her hands off. 

As soon as she slid into her seat, the doors to the library swung open, revealing a panic stricken Leopold, "Aneue is looking for you!" His eyes then dropped and transfixed on the dead look in Langris' eyes and then onto the pile of books sitting atop of each other, "You're just like Aniue..."

"Who's like Fuegoleon?" Mereoleona strided past Leopold, glaring at the books on the table like they were her sworn enemy, "Eirene! What did I tell you about training?!"

"I know, I know!" Eirene waved her hands frantically, "Do first, don't think and follow your instincts! B-But... My attribute is terrible against the ocean water, so I thought I'd -" She shut her mouth when she caught her older sister's glare.

One minute they were still tucking books into their respective shelves, the next they were being dragged by Mereoleona's large lion claw out the door.

Being lifted off the ground wasn't so bad. Langris looked a little like he was about to vomit but Eirene almost wanted to laugh at the way he looked right now.

"You're supposed to train your endurance!" Mereoleona growled, tossing them away. They went flying through the air, an inch away from landing face first before Langris summoned a portal. 

“Oof!” Eirene grunted as her knees clashed with the soft sand. They were no longer at the Vermillion residence and instead at their originally destined location. Her eyes twitched at the stray beam of sunshine attacking her sight, as if welcoming her back from an evening of books and vellums. “Oh, Raque is as beautiful as I remember it! Let’s build a sandcastle! No, wait, let’s run and race!”

Giddy with excitement, Eirene took off her coat and ran towards the shore. The cool water lapped at her feet, fizzing and bubbling like brine. "Langris!" She called, looking over at her shoulder at him.

“You’re here to train Mana Skin, remember…?” He called after her, following in her steps.

Cool evening air chilled his bare skin, making goosebumps ripple across his arms, and seawater sprayed against his ankles every so often. 

Langris liked the sound of the ocean.

He hated the sand.

The beach would be a thousand percent more tolerable if it didn’t have sand, or strange sea creatures that liked to nip at his ankles when he wasn’t paying attention.

He wore only his swimming trunks, while she wore a bikini. He tried to keep his eyes off her, but they kept darting back no matter how much he tried. He groaned internally, the last thing he wanted was a never-ending volley of teasing. 

"Eirene and Langris?" Someone asked, capturing their attention.

Eirene's eyebrows rose, "Finral? Hi! Are you here on vacation too?” Then she narrowed her eyes, playfully teasing, “Or are you here to hit on women?”

"N-No! The Black Bulls are here on a mission. I … I'm surprised to see you two here," Finral waved timidly, stuttering a little. He gestured over to his squad behind him, loud cheers and excited squeals of joy. A few of them must have noticed Eirene waving or Langris’ displeased glare and started to make their way over.

“Oh? I’m surprised they assigned you on a mission, considering how weak your attack spells are,” Langris stated rancorously. 

“Well, I guess...” Finral waved his hands around in an attempt for emphasis, “Everyone’s having fun and training, but just between you and me, I’m pretty nervous… Ha…”

Langris only scoffed at this, a mocking smile upon his lips, “Let’s hope you don’t drag everyone down with your weakness.”

Hurt registered across Finral’s face before it was quickly covered up with a silly laugh. “Hopefully… I doubt I’ll be much help anyways.”

“Hi, Eirene,” Noelle said as she approached, offering a warm smile and a small wave. 

Eirene was never really close to Noelle. It wasn’t for the same manner of reason as Solid and Nebra. She had tried to help Noelle at many points in time to no avail, mostly due to the stark contrast between their affinities. 

“Vice Captain Eirene!” Asta greeted cheerfully.

"La! Let's go eat some food!" Charmy hopped on Eirene's back, tugging her hair with one hand and holding a cupcake in the other.

Eirene smiled, tipping her head back before she left with Charmy, "Noelle, your swimsuit looks great! Don't you think so, Asta?" The boy in question started to stare, before Noelle smacked him right in the face.

"S-Stupidsta! Who said you could look?!"

"Oh! Eirene! This is perfect! Let's fight!" Luck trilled, fists up in the air, "Oh! Even better! Let's have a competition to see who can set Magna's loincloth on fire!"

"I don't think we need to - he'll probably set it on fire himself," Eirene bit back a laugh, a burst of flames at the palm of her hands, "Or maybe..."

Magna's eyes widened, "No! Are you both crazy?!"

Eirene and Luck exchanged a look, grins on their faces as they said, "Yes."

"Eirene!" Vanessa cheered, stumbling over her own legs as she engulfed Eirene in a big hug, "I've missed you! And oh!" She pulled away, and said with a sly smile, "You brought your boyfriend! Hello, my name is Vanessa." She wobbled over to Langris and shook his hand.

Langris almost choked at her words. He cleared his throat. "We're simply friends," he said, commanding heat to seer _away_ from his cheeks. He glanced at Eirene, but she was no longer listening. Of course she was building a sandcastle. 

"Listen here, you, don't you dare hurt her," Vanessa slurred, poking his chest with her nail, "Oh, by the way, on a completely unrelated topic. The other day, I recently found a collection of severed heads in an odd cupboard."

"You found a what-"

"I just remembered I had it. It caught me way off-guard when I saw it, but now it's definitely my collection," she winked at him, and he gulped, "Made for an excellent potion though. No traces of them ever being alive..." She traced her finger along his neck, "Just something to keep in mind."

He blinked at her, "That is... Literally Illegal. You're describing something illegal."

When he turned her gaze to Eirene again, she was shooting out cradles of fire at Luck and Magna through one hand, and swinging her arms over Finral with another, "Finral, how about I wing woman you?" 

Langris’ eyes twitched, "You're supposed to practice your Mana-skin under water."

"Guys, let's play a game!" She clapped her hands together, completely ignoring him, "Let's see whose pick up line can get Finral a girl!" 

"I don't need pick up lines! I- I can get girls!" Finral said, his tone betraying how confident he looked. 

"Oh, Stop bragging," Eirene snickered.

"I never brag," Finral huffed.

"...Finral, you once called your flirting skills the proof of God's existence."

"Well… You can't say I'm wrong."

"You are wrong," Eirene said bluntly, and at the same time Langris said flatly, "You have no skills."

Vanessa burst into a puddle of laughter, clutching her stomach and tears leaking through her eyes, "Yes! Yes, pick up lines, what a fantastic idea!"

"La! Here! Feed them with my nommy-noms!" Charmy said, offering him a plate of freshly made sushi. "I caught the seafood!"

"Finral! We have to show them how manly you are!" Magna said, flexing his own biceps. Finral backed away, laughing nervously as he looked at his arms with regret.

"Muscles!" Asta exclaimed, flexing his own.

"Oh! Oh!" Luck raised his hand up, "If I win, will you fight me, Eirene!?"

She shook her head, “Maybe not on a beach.”

Eirene slung her arm over Finral’s to guide him towards a group of girls, leaving Langris twitching with annoyance. His brother, of all people... But he found himself following after them, shaking his head with disbelief. 

"Here, Finral," Vanessa winked, swaying as she made her way over to him. In her hand was a vial of pink that she placed on his palm, curling his fingers around it, "This is a love potion. I win!" 

"H-Hey, that's not fair!" Noelle whined. She cleared her throat and flipped a pigtail over her shoulder, "If only you were Royalty, Finral."

"H-H-How does that help?!" Finral cried out.

The group of girls that they had approached turned on their heels slowly, whispering to one another before scrambling away. 

"Look what you did!" Eirene fussed.

So they made their way to another group of girls.

"W-Wait, they’re with guys already. A-And those guys are taller than me," Finral pointed out.

"Finral, you innocent little boy," Vanessa wagged her finger at him, clicking her tongue in disappointment, "You must show them how dominant you are."

"Dominant?!" Finral cried out, horrified.

"Too tall? Just punch them in the stomach," Luck said with a grin, "Then! When he's in pain, you can knock him out!" He turned to his friends like he had done something worth praising.

Magna burst into an uproar of laughter, "No! Just tackle him!"

"La! Give him food and poison him!" Charmy chimed.

"Kick him in the shin!" Eirene yelled.

"Or... Just ask him to lean down..." Noelle muttered, shaking her head.

"Maybe just slip him the love potion too," Vanessa mused, taking another swing of her alcohol.

"Why am I here..." Langris murmured absentmindedly, eyes glazed with disinterest. 

Finral shot them all a defeated look, a weary smile on his lips, "Ha... I ..."

"Yeah!" Luck chimed, then looked around blankly, "Are we done? Does anyone want to fight?"

“We haven’t started!” Finral cried.

"I should be training..." Noelle sighed. 

"I should drink more..." Vanessa slurred, somehow already obtaining another bottle.

"I should work out!" Asta declared, dropping down into one handed push ups.

Langris' fingers shot to his temple, trying to diffuse a headache. 

"I should... actually start as well..." Eirene trailed off, realising how much time had passed when she saw the setting sun. 

"Oh! We should get going, everyone. Captain Yami said we should assemble by sunset," Vanessa reminded.

"I can't believe you of all people remembered that, you drunk," Magna perplexed.

"I wonder if Captain Yami will fight me today..." Luck pondered.

Vanessa ruffled Eirene’s hair before leaning down to her ear. "You should take the lead. Boys love women who take the lead," she whispered seductively, sending shivers down Eirene's spine. "I'll sneak you a love potion if you ever want one."

"N-No!" Eirene flushed.

Choruses of ‘ _Bye Eirene_ ’s filled the air, followed by a soft, ‘ _Bye, Langris_ ’ from Finral and _'Bye, Golden Vice Captain!_ ’ from the others. 

When more light came from the moon than the sun Eirene clasped her hands around her back and walked over the cool black sand to the inky water.

Langris followed after, watching as her hair fell loose about her face, tousled, tangled. He suddenly remembered the times they've spend at the beach when they were younger. She would gather seashells with the utmost care, looking dismayed each and every time she found one that'd been too badly damaged, setting those ones aside almost reluctantly.

“Not going for a dip?” Eirene asked, a teasing lilt on her lips.

Langris shook his head.

“It’s too damn cold.”

She shrugged.

“Probably warmer in the water.”

His lips parted, about to say something, when warm hands found his back. Shock shot through him, but before he could react, he was launched through the air, and just had enough time to gasp a breath of air before going under.

Salt water filled his nose and the warm water shocked his system. He flailed and swam to the top, gasping as his nose burned.

“Eirene!"

He sneezed, hearing laughter from far off. He was going to get sick, he could feel it. He heard a deep chuckle from nearby and turned to see Eirene had jumped in with him. Her hair clung to her face, and her eyes buried into his, gleaming with mischief. 

"Sorry," she bit her lip, looking not the least bit apologetic. She beamed him a radiant smile in a rather impish gesture. 

All Langris was aware of was the steady lap of the waves and the buzz within the small space between Eirene's near-naked body and his. His eyes dropped to her lips, and his breath caught.

Then, out of nowhere, she leaned in, her lips brushing against his cheek.

He didn't dare move, his eyes fluttering closed as he struggled to breathe. He wondered if she was going to kiss him, half-delirious, struck speechless with sudden desire. His face burned. His heart stuttered. If he turned his head at all, their noses would brush. 

Then slowly, she pulled away, cheeks flushed the same colour and lips tinted with a smile.

"I'm freezing. Let's get out of here." She turned away quickly, creating a small wave that collided with his body.

It took him a little while to come back to his senses, and then he could feel the disgusting feel of sand underneath his toes and the goosebumps along his arms courtesy of the cold. 

"Are you coming?" Eirene asked.

He hummed absentmindedly, a voiceless nod.

"Yeah."

He could see shadows glistening over his skin from the moonlight, from the dark as he drifted back to shore. He couldn't help but think that it went in hand with everything Eirene was. God, he hated thinking so poetically. Gross.

A warm hand on his own shook away his thoughts, and he looked up to see a pair of bright blue eyes. 

"Langris? Are you peeing?"

He blinked slowly, jerking his hand away before he cleared his throat. "No, you idiot. Let's go."


	6. Flashback: The Vermillions and the Demon

If Eirene had to describe 'tough love' in two simple words, it would be - Mereoleona Vermillion. She vividly remembered the first few weeks of her stay in the Clover Kingdom. 

Did she want to grab some food from the kitchen? If her older siblings weren’t present, someone from the Crimson Lion Kings would have to accompany her. Did she need to step out of the castle to go get some fresh air? Nope, Fuegoleon wouldn’t allow it unless at least twenty mages went with her. Did she want to train? Was Mereoleona around? No? Then, no. It was almost unbelievable how protective the Vermillions were towards their sibling. Yet, no one was truly surprised - Lions fiercely protected their cubs. Especially female lionesses.

So today, Eirene, ten years old, stood at the border of the Spade Kingdom. “Okay, I can do this,” she gulped, but her fear did not alleviate even with a show of bravery. The desired impact was this training was to draw out the creature residing inside her. They were close to a revelation. To uncover the trigger behind a summoning.

Of course, Fuegoleon had opposed, and still currently doing so. Leopold was too young at this point to do anything in opposition. And Eirene was unable to explain the reason for which she burst into tears at that exact moment. Most likely it had to do with the realisation that training with Mereoleona could potentially kill her. That, and how fearful she was. Perhaps it was a combination thereof. 

She had tried so desperately hard to will her tears back in, but she was now an overflowing waterfall. Her breaths ragging and tripping over each other - she could barely get her words out.

"I-I can't, Mereo."

Fuegoleon exchanged a look with his elder sister, a look of caution perhaps, like he was telling her ' _No. please rethink this._ '

"That's not a word I'm familiar with," Mereoleona snapped, breaking eye contact, "Come at me. Now."

Eirene barely had a second to breathe before bullets of fire whizzed over her head as she ran away from her. Adrenaline coursed through her system as a fight or flight instinct.

"Get back here! I won't stand watching you run with your tail between your legs!"

"Aneue, you can do it!" Leopold shouted from the side, his own Mana exploding in enthusiasm.

Eirene looked back. Mereoleona was closing in. Out of the corner of his eyes, she was almost close enough to make a grab for her. She swiveled on her heel, "Hell-fire Magic: C-"

"Too slow!"

It was too fast to track, to get anything more than blur, and the jarring pain of a punch to the face. In any other circumstances she may have admired the skill with which her sister had managed it. Clutching the bruise blooming on her skin, Eirene looked at Mereoleona. She honestly didn’t know where her sister found the energy, but she showed no signs of tiredness or slowing. One fight blended into the next, into the next, until she’d lost all possible sense of direction or surrounding. She felt faint. She felt like she’d been on a fairground ride and that the world would continue to spin even if she stopped now.

"Fight back!" Mereoleona reprimanded.

“I can’t!” Eirene dared say, in spite of Mereoleona’s vehement glare. _I’m scared_ , she wanted to say, but that would bring a multitude of quarrels. 

"I think we need to reconsider this," Fuegoleon stepped forward. He outstretched his arm, his eyes ablaze with determination. A part of him knew he needed to stop his siblings, yet a part of him tugged on his brain and advised him otherwise. He was always a firm believer of going about things with careful consideration and planning. And this was, the complete opposite.

"There's nothing she can do about it now!" Mereoleona replied, not without some fire, "The sooner she accepts that, the sooner she’ll move on from fear. The sooner she can look to the future.” Her face pinched slightly as she approached her little sister, “Stop crying and get up, you fool."

Through a blubber of choked sobs, Eirene cried, "You're telling me to stop crying?! ... Is it easier for you to stop fighting than it is for me to stop feeling?"

"Aneue, don't cry..." Leopold wobbled over to her and patted her head. It was something Fuegoleon would do when he felt down. "You can do this! Let's do it together! We can't give up now!"

"Sister..." Fuegoleon said again, maintaining a most serious expression. He stepped in front of Eirene and Leopold, covering them with his body in a manner of protection. "You may want to stop."

"Yeah! We’ll all fight together! Don’t hurt Aneue!" Leopold followed suit, outstretching his little arms, his eyes bursting with a new resolve. 

Mereoleona's blue eyes had lost their harshness. She walked towards her little sister. She sighed, “Look.” Mereoleona crouched down and set her hand on Eirene's head.

“I’m not telling you to stop crying. I’m telling you to work through the tears. We need to tap into that power to know what we’re dealing with. So we can deal with it together.” Her expression had softened as she said this, “It hurts. I get it. It hurts. But the only thing that’ll make it hurt less is moving on. Dry your tears. Try again.”

"I… I know. ... I’m trying," she wiped her tears with the backs of her hands, Mereoleona’s words already calming her waters. "It's okay, Fuego... Leo..." Eirene sniffled, a smidgen of bravery coiling around her heart, "I can do this." She pushed herself off the ground in a decided motion and smiled her certainty.

 _I’m scared,_ she wanted to say, but she had made up her mind to try. 

Fuegoleon gave her a long look before stepping back, clutching onto his faith.

“Okay, Aneue,” Leopold gave Eirene’s head another pat for good measure before he followed his brother towards the sidelines.

"Mana Zone..." Mereoleona said, her fists ablaze with scorching flames," "Caldius Brachium!"

Eirene's eyes widened, her breath hitching as she brought her arms up to her head -

"Stop thinking! Don't just defend! Fight! Fight back!" Mereoleona shouted over her thoughts.

Eirene’s fingers clenched at her palms.

 _I’m scared,_ she wanted to scream.

She shook her head like she was trying to dispel some dizziness, "H-Hell Fire - " Suddenly, she shot out a burst of black flame, heart hammering, hand warning her older sister back.

"W-Wait! D-Don't come any closer," she breathed, panic stricken. 

It’s _here._

An invisible hand clasped over her mouth; an equally ghostly hypodermic of adrenaline pierces her heart, unloading in an instant. She felt her ribs heaving as if bound by ropes, straining to inflate her lungs. Her head was a carousel of fears spinning out of control, each one pushing her mind into blackness. She wanted to run; she needed to freeze. 

Sounds that were near felt far away, like she was no longer in the body that stood in this form -

The voice in her head sounded so _pitiful_.

Eirene felt her eyelids flutter, suddenly feeling so unbearably... Exhausted -

_...Could pity be this cruel?_

"So you finally showed yourself," Mereoleona said. She tensed, fractionally, and debated how to next go about this. "Eirene. You can hear me can't you? Fight this bastard. Fight for your mind!" She sauntered forward, flames erupting around her, growing ravenous. "Restrain and fight!"

 _Get out of my head,_ Eirene said, but she wasn't speaking. Not really.

Something cackled back at her. 

"Go," she found herself saying out loud, brimming with cold power. In front of her was her sister, and Eirene reached out, calling for help, but her hands were frozen, and her lips were speaking something she didn't want to. Her body was on longer in her command. 

"Aneue!" She could hear Leopold cry out. 

Black spots danced before her eyes, first around the corners, slowly seeping in like the smoke that painted the skies black. She begged soundlessly. Helplessly.

_Please..._

Her hand raised, black and red flames flickering with no thought of the oxygen they consumed. 

"Die.”

_No stop._

_Stop._

_Stop. Stop, please._

"Eirene!" Fuegoleon shouted over the sudden explosion of Mana, one hand at his Grimoire and one hand reaching outwards. His elder sister beat him to it by a fraction of a second. “Be careful!” He warned.

But Mereoleona simply caught Eirene's hand, entwining their fingers and all of her flames died. It burned for a while, then stopped completely.

"Stop this," she commanded, "Eirene. I know you can hear me. Fight."

Eirene's skin glowed from within, veins outlined by the light, skin crackling with heat and flashes of raw power, and she whispered, “Would you like to know what it feels like to die at the hand of someone you love?” 

Mereoleona scowled. “Get the _fuck_ out of my sister's head, now."

“Or what? You’ll kill me? And your sister too, in the process? I don’t think so.”

"Die?" Mereoleona laughed mirthlessly, cracking her knuckles, "You underestimate Vermillion women. No sister of mine will die that easily.” Her flames bursted from her palms, challenge clear in her eyes, “Alright, I'll give you a good fight."

Leopold could only stand to the side as he watched his two elder sisters claw at each other's flesh, both with so much raw power it almost scared him. That was when he understood what helplessness meant. It was simple really. Terrifyingly simple. Resolve didn’t matter. What mattered was the means for action. And right now he had none.

He gritted his teeth and he swore he would get stronger for his sake - for his family’s sake, for his Crimson Lion Kings. For this kingdom.

Fuegoleon held his ground. He never thought that desperation would ache so much. He trusted his elder sister, and he knew his younger sister well enough to know that they would both survive this. Unscathed? No. Alive? Without a doubt. And he wanted to shout at them to stop, to pull out his Grimoire and interfere, but he didn't. He couldn't. All he knew was that desperation was shouting at the top of his lungs until his throat was raw and throbbing. 

Eirene fell to her knees, and she knew at this point what defeat would mean. And it was horrifying, knowing there was nothing she could do. There was so much static in her head and it felt so so so petrifyingly cold. Her own cry rang in her ears. 

“Stop…. Crying, you fool.” Mereolena gritted through clenched teeth. "I know what you're thinking. You. Not that demon," she said, wiping the blood of her chin. "’ _I don’t want to hurt them._ ' Right?... Don’t you underestimate your family." 

This was perhaps one of the only times Mereoleona recognised what love was. The first was when Leopold managed to crawl his way up from the depths of the legendary cave - the one rumored to strengthen kids if they made it out alive. The second was the Hot-Blooded Tuesday, where the destruction of the Vermillion Estate occurred at the hands of the two eldest. And now the third ... 

Eirene's got instincts sharp enough to cut through stone, and it never ceased to amaze Mereoleona. And now with those instincts not truly in her power and her voice filled to the brim with arsenic, Mereoleona forced herself to drink it up because right now Eirene was poison but she would swallow every drop if it meant she could keep her sister alive. 

The very thing that was the trigger to tapping into this forbidden power was the thing that held her back. Vulnerability. Weakness. Love. These were the things that lured a demon out. These were the things demons preyed on. Feasted on.

The anger tightly bound beneath Mereoleona’s skin threatened to erupt at that thought. 

"WAKE UP! EIRENEOLA VERMILLION! No sister of mine will perish this easily! I will not let you, do you understand me?! WAKE UP!"

Eirene blinks back into reality at Mereoleona's raspy voice, and at the end, it was perhaps the fear that stopped her.

Or maybe it was resilience. Strength. Raw power.

But now as she looked at her trembling hands and the smears of blood splattered across the ground, she could barely tell whose they belonged to. She could feel the scars already starting to bloom upon her skin, and the burning pain jarring though her bones. She looked down. There were marks on her rib cage - she didn't know what caused them - whips of fire, spells of blazing flames. Mereoleona hadn't held back.

Hesitantly, she turned to look at her older sister, her face blanching as she realised what she had done. She could only stare, completely stricken at the bruises on her sister's face, fangs bared as though ready to strike again. 

Around them was the obscure smattering of black flames, seeping through the joints on the cracked earth, snaking out from dark corners and crevices. True... Hell-fire magic... 

She faltered.

“I- I'm… I’m so sorry. I'm sorry, Mereo...” Eirene choked over her own words, tears gathering in her eyes, momentarily blinding her. Additionally to the pain in her body, her head was now pounding with unshed tears. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I’m sorry. I don’t. I don’t know what’s… I couldn't…”

Mereoleona's fists uncurled and her shoulders sagged as she inhaled sharply. Her broken ribs screamed with each shallow, strained breath. She inched slowly up off the floor, wiping blood from her face, hunched over her broken bones. 

“Idiot…” She muttered.

Flooded with relief, she began to laugh, startling her sister into a stunned and hesitant silence.

"You could. You did. I will not allow you to succumb to that demon," she said, bringing Eirene's head onto her shoulder, stroking her hair as sobs racked her body. Mereoleona's grip tightened. “It feeds on vulnerability, but I will never allow you to think that it is a weakness. It’s our greatest measure of courage.”

“Aneue!” Leopold threw his little arms around Eirene’s waist, and she restrained herself from wincing as he made contact with her burns. She smiled, holding him close.

"But it seems like you already understand that," Mereoleona said, a grin stretching across her lips, all crooked and boyish around the corners as if she herself wasn’t a complete monstrosity wrapped vaguely in human form, "I'm proud of you, Eirene."

"I knew you could do it, Aneue," Leopold grinned, rubbing his face against hers dotingly. 

Fuegoleon let out another breath of relief, his heart finally calming. "I too, will not let you succumb to darkness. Not as long as you have family waiting for you," he said.

It wasn’t until Eirene was thirteen that she started to gain control. And yes, her siblings could be a little overbearing, but she loved them to death. Yes, Mereoleona had forced her to go off the deep end to face her fears, but she had never asked her to do it alone. Fuegoleon might have reservations about his elder sister's way of doing things, but he’d never abandoned them. He was always there. Leopold might have been too young back then to interfere but he was pure and had a good heart, always have been and always will.

And she would be eternally grateful for them.


	7. The First Attack

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's dangerous to walk around by yourself, missy?"

Eirene's expression moved between shock, to indignation at being pressed up against a wall, to recognition as she took in the sight of the person who did so. Her chin jutted, unafraid, "Let me go. I'll burn you." 

The man cackled mockingly, "Burn me?!"

This wasn’t really how she’d planned to spend her weekend, to be honest. One minute she was standing next to Fuegoleon, watching as Leopold received a jump in his ranking, and the next, she'd been sent to the town and now was pinned against the wall by a strange looking man, wearing a strange looking cloak, red splotched markings on his face, much too close for comfort. 

This was...

Thoroughly inconvenient. 

She wasted a good five seconds staring, blood rushing to her head as she wondered who the hell he was, why the hell the Royal Capital was going up in flames, or who was behind killing innocent civilians, but at the end, she just let out a furious sigh. Then she swore and jerked into action. 

Magic crackled in the palms of her hands and in the blink of an eye, she had turned the tables, twisting the villain's arm behind him as she slammed his face to the ground.

"Who are you?" She asked, coldly, "And what the hell do you think you're doing to the Kingdom, you bastard?!"

The man started to laugh maddeningly, "Why do you think?!? To kill you wretched Magic Knights and abolish the Clover Kingdom! Mark my words! The Eye of the Midnight Sun will prevail!"

Eirene's eyes twitched in annoyance. "You know I could burn you alive right now." She hummed, "But then again, the Wizard King would probably have a lot of questions..." She jerked the man's arm further back while she weighed her options. Finally she groaned, relenting to her duties, "Hell-fire Magic: Icarceratione Flammae."

Blazing flames shot out from her hands, coiling around the man's body like hot ribbons of light. She stood up, dusting off her hands and admired her handiwork before her head twitched in the direction of a nearby mob - desperate pleas of help as civilians pushed against each other and children tripped over their own feet. Behind them was a pack of shambling corpses, sprinting towards them with remarkably quick speed, making grabbing hands at the civilians' retreating forms.

“What the hell…” 

She bolted at them without another thought, watching her obedient flames flicker in the breeze, catching fire to the undead, blackening them and transforming into dust at her command. When she was sure she had annihilated the entire swarm, civilians' cheers erupted through the air, calling her name like it was some sort of prayer.

When she turned to ask if they were okay, their shouts of encouragement started to deaden, replaced by shouts of panic. Eirene's head snapped, just a fraction to see more villains jumping out at her. Not the undead - real people - same sort of red splotches on their skin, and three eyes sewn onto their cloaks. 

She rushed in, no hesitation, blasting them away with one ferocious attack spell after another, effectively defeating them in a few short blows. The last few lunged at her, but she had dodged, shifting her body weight onto her right leg, ducking, then landing the killing blow with her left. Then before she could recompose herself, another had shoved himself off the floor and lunged at her, his claws striking through the air and into her eye - 

While her brain stuttered, her body dodged, and she looked up just in time to see another arm grab the villain, grasping the man up by his collar.

"Where are you looking?"

"Langris!" She placed a hand on her chest as she gasped in mock adoration, "My knight in shining - Er... Golden Dawn armor!"

His lips curved into a smile, but his eyes were cold as he glared at the villain, "You're not worth our time. Don't even think about touching her."

The man struggled against Langris' death grip, feet thrashing as he tried to land a hit, "You'll all pay for this! We will all be resurrected! We will be in our true forms!" He smiled wryly, Plant Magic: Branches of Evil!"

Roots and branches crawled out of the man's palms, but Eirene simply placed her hands on its source, taking the time to smile sweetly at the man, before burning his branches into little shrivels, and then into crumbling ash. Then, she proceeded to tie him up the same way she did the others.

"Done!" She crossed her arms as she glared down at the captives, who struggled against her spell, "The Eye of the Midnight Sun, huh?" She turned to Langris and jabbed him playfully, "And you, who knew you could fight for someone else? Your favorite quote when you were little was Darwin's 'survival of the fittest'.

"They were getting on my nerves," he answered, tucking away his Grimoire. He didn't even have to use it. "Might I remind you they were also attacking the Capital."

"And..." She pressed.

"And what?" He arched a brow. She blinked up at him, looking at him with those big eyes of hers. He rolled his eyes in an attempt to look away, "Your family wouldn't be happy if you were hurt."

"And..." 

His eyebrows slanted in confusion, though his eyes were heavy against her gaze, warm, on edge. "And I wouldn't either, alright?"

And with that she pushed up onto her tip-toes, pressing her body roughly to his for a moment that lingered for one perfect, sparkling moment.

"Alright," she said, but her breath was uneven as it blew on his ears as she melted in his embrace. His hips dug into hers, hands low on her hips, fingers curled into the fabric of her uniform. But then she pulled away with labored breath, a flutter in her stomach. He stepped away, his hands itching to pull her back but stopped, flustered color high on his cheeks. 

"I-Is that Vice Captain Langris from the Golden Dawn?!" One of the civilians stammered, nudging their friends, "A-And -"

"And Vice Captain Eireleona!" Another continued, "You both are amazing!"

"Thank you! Thank you!" The civilians shouted above each other, like some sort of mantra, while Eirene and Langris smiled politely and waved. 

She groaned then, like she was going to be sick. This flagged his attention, but she beat him to an answer before he could even ask her anything, "Something's wrong... In the Central District. Someone..." 

Langris didn’t need her to finish her sentence. At once, he opened up a portal for them to use.

Eirene found it difficult to make sense of the shapes swimming in front of her eyesight, especially with the smog created by flames. They were in the Central District now, but there were two people blocking her view from a nearby pool of blood and she took a step back as apprehension clutched at the nape of her neck. She recognised the two as Noelle and Leopold, and the third… 

"Hey, wait. Let’s … Let’s wait, okay. Let’s just wait, - just… -” Langris began, a deep unease crawling under his skin. 

Eirene looked up at him when he stumbled on his words. When Langris spoke it was always direct, words purposeful and rarely ever stuttered or unsure. Everything he said was full of confidence. So the hurried, near desperate tone of his voice stirred an uncomfortable amount of panic in her.

“Wait, don’t,” he said again after a moment, still firm, still hitching on something very nearly desolate.

This wasn't something he wanted her to see. But before he could bring herself to pull her back, she had already marched forward, her eyes already stinging with tears.

A villain stood in her way, Grimoire open and cackling like a maniac, spouting of nonsensical threats. But she wasn't looking at him. Her gaze stretched out beyond the man, past Noelle and Leopold - and on the figure sprawled onto the ground, blood oozing out from where his arm should be. 

"Get out of my way," she commanded, power crackling at her fingertips. Terror was carved into every inch of her expression as she advanced. She smacked the Grimoire out of his hands and the man slapped against the floor in a terrible version of a belly flop.

She strode towards him robotically, her eyes wide and blank, "I said get the hell out of my way."

Completely aware that he was overwhelmed by her power, the villain cowered further away, back slamming against the wall as he stared up at her in pure fear.

Langris, on the other hand, stared at her in utter astonishment when she offered the man a vicious look before striking the first and last, final blow.

Before the man's body could even hit the ground, she had gone straight over to her brother's side, “Leo,” she said. She dropped to one knee and the sight she saw was gut-wrenching. “Wh- What ... ”

Leopold could only shake his head, mutely. He was shaking. 

"N...oelle?" Eirene asked, struggling to keep her voice from faltering. But Noelle too, looked like she was drowning in an unrelenting sea of panic. 

“This can't be right. Fuego, You - what are you -” Eirene stared at him. A dizzying sort of shock washed over her, followed by a coiling nervous anticipation. "C-Come on. Wake up," she said, shaking him _. God, shit. Where the hell was everyone? Where the hell were the Healing Mages when she needed them the most?!_ She chewed at her lip, demanding her brain to calm down. _Think. Okay. Think. What would Mereoleona do?_ In a frantic mess of emotions, her fingers fumbled against each other as she pulled out her Grimoire.

"Mana Zone: Fire Nova Particles," she breathed out, hovering her hands over Fuegoleon's body. A magic circle etched itself on the ground, surrounding the wounded with a cloak dim light and glittering dust. Fuegoleon's grimoire stopped tearing itself apart, the blood loss subduing slowly. But her spell was only meant to stop the bleeding and create a fissure of time. She wasn’t a Healing Mage after all.

"How dare they..." she said. Her voice was calm, but their eyes were blazing, trying to pin someone to blame, but there was no one in sight, "F-Fuego... Who the hell... "

"W-Wait, Aneue..." Leo stammered, eyes widening at the amount of Mana she was releasing. All he could see from her now was sharp edges and an aura that felt like the extended moment before an explosion; bloated and tense and terrible. It twisted knots into his stomach.

"Wh-What? What's wrong? Is something happening?" Noelle asked, panic rising in her voice as she backed away. 

"Aneue! Please calm down!" Leo pleaded, "Noelle, you should step back further."

"Wh-What?!"

"Aneue! Please!"

Even from a few good feet away, Langris could feel Eirene's magic bristling, bubbling, boiling. What's worse was that she was struggling to clamp it back under control. He tore his gaze away from the civilians - hastily ushering them all into the safe zone before he made his way towards her. 

"Eirene," he called out.

"Langris," she faltered.

His eyes widened. There wasn't much time for thinking now.

Surrounding her was a ring of jagged silver fire, swallowed by sapphire blue. It warped around her like some sort of gateway to hell, daring anyone courageous enough to jump through. She was chanting something, and it wasn't until he drew nearer that he heard her. 

Ominous and low, like it wasn't her voice.

"Get out of my head. Restrain. Get out. Get out Get out Get out Get out. Get out. Get out. Please please please please -"

He felt sick to his stomach. He headed towards her. It was as if she was engaged in some sort of conversation. 

He swallowed back against the hard emotion in his throat, his knuckles aching as he squeezed his hands into tighter fists. “ Eirene, what the hell?! ” It’s less of a question and more of a demand. He couldn’t breathe in this heat.

"Vice Captain Langris!" Leopold shouted after him, leaping through the flames himself. His breath trembled as he called out for his sister again, full of desperation and horror. He was a second too late. The flames exploded outward in an even more vicious form, preventing anyone else from entering. 

The very air around them crackled. It made the hair on the back of his skin rise like a storm warning. Where Langris had always been commended for his impeccable control of his gifts over his magic, Eirene was much more like the element she controlled. Unpredictable, wild. Dangerous. Then again, if one looked at the people who raised her, it wouldn’t be much of a shock.

"Eirene," he called again. It was scorching. His skin felt like it was being torn apart. 

She was mumbling something, her eyes wide and her mind somewhere faraway. 

“Hey.” He reached out and pulled her close, his arm wrapping protectively around her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you need to calm down right now.”

"Huh?" Her gaze tore through him, with something manic and burning in her eyes. Something broken. From her had protruded something resembling a horn - ivory white and bone like, her skin almost glowing like embers in the subdued light, her skin so cold despite the deadly talons of fire erupting from them. 

He pulled her in closer to him, but his brain offered him no words of comfort. “Don’t… Don’t cry.” Concern knitted across his face. He drew a finger along her arm and his skin jittered even from that brief touch, her magic spreading and still lingering on his skin, buzzing. He almost jerked back. That felt... Different, to her magic, somehow. It was hers, but at the same it wasn't. 

"You're okay," he murmured, surprised at how soft his voice was, just between the two of them, "Your brother will be okay, alright? Calm down."

Eirene screamed out at the unexpected pain and piercing worry battling for dominance. She reached out for Langris, her nails digging into his forearm. She buried her face against his chest, wishing she could hide there forever, in the steady calm of it. 

"You're okay," he repeated.

"I'm okay," she echoed airily, like she couldn't breathe.

And he pulled her into him, closer and tighter until there wasn't any space left between them. Once more, he was surprised by how her flames didn't seem to burn him alive. Flames from the depths of hell and flames hungry enough to mercilessly devour everything in its path. The same flames that his skin had somehow gotten accustomed to. 

"I'm okay," she said once more, before collapsing completely.


	8. Fevers and Suitors

"It's your own fault, Langris," Eirene's chiding tone was sharply contrasted by how gently she placed the warm cloth on his head. 

"I'm dying, leave me be," Langris said, trying to find comfort in his thick blankets and extra fluffy pillows.

"You have a fever," she sighed, looking at him with a furrowed brow and stirring the tea she had made. "Drink."

He scrunched up his face, "This looks really disgusting." He set the cup on the bedside, still steaming and wafting its bitter scent towards him. His nose crinkled, and he sniffled, trying to convey how much he hated the idea of drinking that awful stuff.

"Oh, come on. Mereo makes me drink this all the time," Eirene rolled her eyes, "It's not that bad!"

"Yeah? And what did she do to make you take it? Did she force you? Tell you she'd kill you if you didn't?"

She wheezed out a laugh, "No, idiot. All right, come on. Just drink your medicine and get better. You’re not a kid anymore, okay? You can handle it without some sort of sugary bribe.”

"Technically, I still am. I'm only twenty," he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Yes, and you're acting like a wuss.” Her breathy giggle made his heart lurch, seeing that small, wobbly smile on her lips. Finally, he allowed her to help him sit up and accepted the cup with a forced thank you before putting the stench into his lips. He took in as much as he could with a straight face before the bitterness overwhelmed him, and it tasted like sour dirt and expired milk. 

“Fuego drank this too you know. Even in his sleep,” Eirene stated, as straight faced as possible. 

Langris rested the cup on his lap. “How is he?”

“Well… Asleep. But his vitals are okay. Getting better,” Eirene smiled softly. She’d visit him everyday, and would take turns with Leopold telling him happy stories to cheer him up. Apparently, that was good for people in a coma. Then Mereoleona had shown up, declared her acceptance for captaincy before dragging them all to the Mana dense volcanic region.

“That’s good.” Langris recalled the way Eirene nearly… Spiralled out of control the other day, during the attack on the Royal Capital. _Terrifying_ , he thought, before taking another gulp of the wretched liquid.

As Eirene watched Langris down the entire thing, she remembered how much worse he used to be when they were younger. He'd ramble on about his cold, eyes heavy with sickness and slick, protesting with wobbly frowns, on the brink of tears. Of course he would play it off and blame it on the fever. She'd read him the silliest stories she'd find in the Vermillion library until his fever broke.

"Who knew the great Langris Vaude could be so dramatic about medicine," Eirene rolled her eyes, taking the empty cup away. "Imagine if Finral or the Golden Dawn saw this..."

"Don't you dare," he growled, but it turned out more into a whooping cough due to the persisting scratchiness in his throat. 

"Oh see, I do dare…” A sly smile crawled upon her lips.

"I'm literally dying." He said, earning another sarcastic look, "This is all because of your ' _If you burn, I'll burn with you_ ' promise... You could go up in flames any time, you idiot. It's your affinity… And me? I’ll die."

"We went to the Ultime Volcano Mountain Trail and you got knocked out by a Lava monster. I doubt that counts as dying," Eirene rolled her eyes and chuckled. "And might I ask for a thank you, considering I saved your life," she reminded him with a flick to his forehead.

He rubbed his forehead and grumbled something, a small blush on his cheeks. He willed the colour to go away. It had to. The teasing from Eirene would be endless.

Though he wasn't sure why he was so worried about it. After all, it wasn't like he was... Trying to impress her. They were simply two friends, fighting side by side everyday and leaning on each other, trusting each other with their lives, spending every spare moment they had together, whether it was a slice of cherry tart by the window pane or doing menial chores around the castle, or relaxing in the library or by Raque - 

He shook his head wildly, sliding into his sheets and trying to melt his emotions into the blanket.

There came a knock on the door and Langris' head peeked out of the covers to see Eirene greeting a boy he'd never seen before. He squinted his eyes suspiciously as they chattered, as she tilted her head back and laughed. He groaned. Not another one...

If he was being honest with himself, he wasn't particularly threatened by the constant courtships she was subjected to. Nobles would trek their way up to the Vermillion residence, but she would always swift to put them with a string of effective 'no's, and she'd never let anything go on for more than a minute. 

It had been getting worse these days. Mereoleona was always out, Fuegoleon had not awakened, and these stupid suitors would stroll in bringing flowers and gold, as if she didn't have those lying around already, begging her for a romantic engagement. For Christ's sake. Langris found his annoyance simmering and simmering, and honestly there was no use denying it. He was livid.

She returned to him, mild agitation crinkling at the edges of her eyes as she slumped back onto the chair.

"There's another one," he frowned, eyes twitching at yet another red-faced boy. He grimaced when he noticed the boy had a sack of potatoes. _Seriously?... These people were really -_

"It's fine," she shot him a thin smile before making her way there again.

_No, it was not._

He stormed towards them trying to keep his expression as dull and unirritated as possible, his eyes glaring at the potato peel the boy had and the devastatingly slow way he was peeling that goddamn stupid potato -

"V-V-V-Vice Captain Langris!" The boy squealed, and Langris' expression darkened. Eirene nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt Langris' hand around her waist, almost yanking her to his side. The boy's eyes nearly popped out of his head as they swiveled back and forth between the two.

"Y-Y-You're... W-With the V-Vice..." The boy choked out, his potato peel clanking on the floor noisily. 

"Langris, what are you..." Eirene trailed off when Langris held his hand up, then used his spatial magic to drop the potato peel back into the boy's palm. 

"I am," Langris said as steady as possible while trying to subside the wave of nausea. Heck this stupid fever. His voice was unexpectedly rough, like sandpaper, and Langris couldn't tell if it was because he was sick or something else.

"O-Oh! I’m so sorry, I truly didn’t know," The boy sniffed, his shoulders trembling at Langris’ death glare. “I… I just thought since I was a Noble, I’d have a chance… I’m older too, and I have a big house…”

Langris wondered if the boy had any idea whose hand he was asking in marriage, or if he knew where they were right now. Because one, Eireneola Vermillion was a _Royal_ , and two, this residence bigger than perhaps twenty of a Noble’s, and three, anyone who knew her would know she couldn’t give two shits about status.

“ _I’m_ a Noble, and the Vice Captain of the Golden Dawn. What’s your point?” Langris bit out, the fuse of his patience burning itself out at this point.

“T-That’s not fair…” The boy stammered, his throat quivering visibly.

Langris weighed the risk to his arm should he throw a punch and make contact with this boy’s face. It was tempting and he suspected it would give him a sense of accomplishment. But the pressure it would exert on his aching limbs, and the response he would receive from Eirene, was a consequence he was not prepared to endure. As such, he hissed out, "Life isn't fair.” And unable to resist, he offered another small comment, “Leave before I make you.”

The boy kept bowing, offering an apology after another and a quick goodbye before he headed off, not bothering to bring along his sack of potatoes with him.

"Why... Would you say that?" Eirene asked without an ounce of accusation in her tone. She bit her lip to keep herself from laughing at Langris' ever so slightly flushed cheeks. His hand still lingered on her waist, and she couldn't help but notice the warmth radiating from his touch spreading towards her entire body.

"I..." He swallowed thickly, "Am just repaying you for giving me that horrid tea." He returned to the bed before she could take a poke at his expression.

"Just that?" She pressed.

He chuckled, half out nerves, half out of relief knowing that boy had gone and that she wasn't mad at him. Once he regained his composure, he sat straight on the bed and patted her head, "Look. Just be grateful I’ve saved you from that insect now. Perhaps we should notice Leopold and the Silvas to keep you away from the threat of evil boys? And another great idea, perhaps we should also move to a room further from the entrance."

Eirene rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Good plan. I'd prefer it without teasing though. Some saviour you are," she grumbled at him, flicking his chest before gathering her belongings. He laughed softly before pulling the blankets off him. 

There was a sudden clatter of objects on the floor and then he felt a pair of warm arms surround him, her grip firm but gentle as she pressed her body to his. 

"W-What are you-"

She squeezed tighter, and he felt himself melt, lingering in the embrace for longer than he was used to.

“Thank you.”

“I- …”

All his thoughts stuttered to a complete halt.

He felt so … Oddly warm.

So warm. 

Eirene pulled away, and Langris’ face flushed as she sent him a supernova grin, his thoughts fizzling down to a blubber of hot lava and stardust.

"Thank you for saving me... For the other day, too," she said, referring to the Eye of the Midnight Sun's attack. "I've said this before but I’ll always save you when you're in trouble," she held up her pinky with a grin, a small bashful blush rising to her cheeks. “I know you’re sick, so I won’t pluck out your hair this time.”

This was dejavu, like that day at the party. That day they formally established a bridge of friendship, with the potential of something more. 

"You know I will too," he said, linking their pinkies together.


	9. Love Potions, Star Festival

Eirene ladled a big spoonful and shoved it at Magna’s face. “Does this smell like a love potion to you?"

”Ugh, I don’t know. Is it supposed to smell like that?” Magna scrunched up his nose.

”This better work,” Finral grumbled, taking this more seriously than anyone else.

”God knows you need it,” Vanessa chuckled, taking a swing of her wine.

”Vanessa! That’s so mean...!” Finral whined, melodramatic tears running down his face.

”It smells really yummy, la! It smells like I just snorted sugar!” Charmy said, lunging at the cauldron.

Eirene pulled her back. ”Really?!” She pulled a sour face, “It smells disgusting...”

”La...”

”Oh, Marie...” Gauge sighed lovingly, as he stared at his beloved picture. A massive nosebleed was already on its way. Everyone seemed to disregard his comment, chattering above each other, except for Magna who huffed out a “Gross,” earning a glare from Gauche.

Luck peered at its contents, “Hey, hey, what’s this? Can I try? Will this make me a better fighter? Hey, Eirene, can we fight after this? Can we?”

“I don’t understand why a love potion would even need this kind of ingredient..." Finral rubbed his chin, "It smells like feet."

"Why are you smelling feet?" 

”Honestly... Don’t you all have something better to do at the Star Festival?” Noelle huffed, crossing her arms. Secretly, she took peeks at the cauldron of bubbling green, her heart fluttering so so so loud. She let out a squeal, and everyone turned to look at her, quizzical looks on their faces.

”Wh-Wh-What are you all looking at?! I’m Royalty, you know,” Noelle said, flipping a pigtail.

”What does that have to do with anything?!” Magna retorted, while Vanessa just laughed, completely aware why the younger girl was acting this way.

Eirene blinked at the potion, bubbles simmering up in the thick blob of goo. It looked putrid, and that was a description with a thick layer of sugarcoating. 

“Eirene! Let’s fight!” Luck said again, throwing punches in the air, electricity crackling in his palms.

”Now?!” 

“Yes! What better way to enjoy a festival?!”

She deadpanned, “Anything other than fighting.” At the same time as the others responded,

”Luck, get your ass down. I’ll fight you later! First, this love potion...!!! Where’s the lizard tail...”

”Enjoying it with my Marie...”

”Drink! Drink! Drink!” Vanessa chanted.

”Flirting with girls!” Finral cheered.

“La!” Charmy held up her chicken thighs in the air like a trophy.

Eirene shot Finral a look before her lips curled into a grin, “I’ll help you, I’ll be your wingwoman!”

”N-No! No more!” He shouted immediately, earning a confused look from Eirene. 

She put a hand on her heart and pouted mockingly, “Oh, come on. I’m not that bad now, am I?”

Finral rubbed the back of his neck, ”Well... I just don’t want to get on Langris’ bad side more than necessary, you know... You understand.” 

Eirene’s brows furrowed, “Huh? What are you talking about? Why would you get on his bad side?”

This earned a big laugh from Vanessa. She scooted closer to Eirene, swinging a jolly arm around her shoulder. “You’re even more clueless than Noelle, hm?” She whispered.

”What?! But Noelle so obviously likes -“

Before she could finish, Vanessa clamped a hand over her mouth, giggling, while Noelle shot her an alarmed look, face completely flushed.

”Okay, okay,” Eirene nodded in understanding, except it sounded more like “Mhkagh, mhkagh.”

”I heard the Vice Captain is really prickly,” Magna said, “Just because that pretty boy is a Noble man... Seriously...”

”I heard he’s really strong!” Luck said.

”Is that all you care about, you silly boy?” Vanessa whined.

”I heard he’s really really strong!” Luck pressed, an even wider grin growing.

”He is,” Eirene said, a small smile finding its way to her face.

”Oh, the little Vermillion is blushing!” Vanessa cooed, pinching her cheeks.

”Sh-Shut up!” Eirene cried, but her face must be beyond an attractive rosiness by now.

”Speak of the devil...” Vanessa sang, her gaze sliding elsewhere.

”Langris!” Eirene shot out of her seat. Magna raised a questioning brow, Finral chuckled and Luck hopped over to him, all enthused and fired up.

”Hey, Vice Captain. I heard you’re really, really strong! Fight me!” Luck shrilled, electrifying Mana swirling around his body. 

“No thanks,” Langris muttered absently, his eyes flicking over to the large cauldron perched on the table.

“We weren’t doing anything suspicious,” Eirene waved her hand around frantically, “Not at all!” She pushed the cauldron further away.

Magna burst into a puddle of laughter, pointing a finger at Eirene, “Oh! I should’ve known! It was for him, wasn’t it?! Oh, I knew it!”

Equal parts disturbed and annoyed, Langris spoke with a slight petulance to his voice, “I need to speak to you, Eirene.”

”Hm?”

”Oh! This is the long awaited love confession?!” Vanessa tried to whisper but it came out loud and clear. Noelle’s ears perked up, wondering what love confessions could unravel, just in case...

”Oh, stop it,” Eirene waved her hands around dismissively, her cheeks cherry red.

Langris had a look in his eyes she couldn’t fully decode. But once more he regarded her with a serious gaze, cocking his head to the side. Eirene took this as her cue to say goodbye to her friends. 

“So, what's going on...? Are you okay?” Eirene began, barely able to contain her curiosity.

“Right. This might come as a shock to you.” He answered. Eirene thought she heard something in his voice. Unable to determine the nature of the change, she peeked at him over her shoulder. But he sported the same solemn expression he had before.

She hummed softly. “You're being deliberately vague.”

“I’ll … tell you later,” he decided after a long pause.

“Okay.”

A small smile flashed across his face and she caught herself smiling back. It seemed a little forced, how amiable it looked, but it was an apparent effort on his part to alleviate her worries and suspicions. So she smiled even wider, despite a burst of wind coming from the north and pickling at her hair. It had been half plaited, half allowed to fly as it would in loose strands. She wished she should have plaited it all. Too late for that though.

"So that love potion..." Langris began, and immediately Eirene could feel the tips of her ears getting hot. 

"N-Not for anyone! In particular!" She stammered, the heat on her face lingering a little longer than usual. 

He responded with something close to a laugh, "Right."

As they kept walking, tentatively, Eirene shuffled a little closer and let her hand swing a little wider, jolting when Langris' knuckles brushed against her skin. 

"Sorry," she murmured, her ears burning at this point.

“For what?” Langris asked, eyebrows puckered in confusion.

He then took her hand unexpectedly, easily, their palms sliding together as they stopped walking in the middle of the markets. The gesture seemed ridiculously casual, like Langris had done it a hundred times before. Eirene looked up at him, her heart crawling into her throat, to find that Langris was looking away from her, eyebrows slanted over his turquoise eyes.

“You’re finally tired of all the suitors?” He murmured, squeezing his hand slightly around hers, who slowly began to close her fingers around the width of his palm. It was akin to electricity, the way it settled into her blood and crackles under her skin.

She simply nodded, bringing up her other hand to cover her mouth as the heat on her face turned blistering, from the tips of her ears to her neck. Was she dreaming? Please don't let this be a dream. She closed her eyes briefly, her breath hot against her hand as she took another steadying breath.

"You could just ask, _Lady_ Eireneola," Langris told her without a shred of shame. As though it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Ask? That’s not romantic,” she jested lamely in an attempt to deflect her embarrassment. In the corner of her eyes, she caught her cousins Mimosa and Kirsch chattering amongst themselves, the former looking absolutely perturbed.

"Would you step checking yourself out? We have somewhere to be, you know. The King will make an announcement soon," Mimosa reminded, mortified at her brother's behaviour.

Kirsch brushed a lock of beautifully combed hair from his face, "Well someone has to admire my beauty, and you don't seem interested in doing so." His eyes lit up when he spotted Eirene looking his way, "Oh, my beautifully chaotic cousin, Eiren -"

"Nope," Eirene turned on her heel, dragging Langris along with her. 

"Wait, Eirene!" Mimosa squealed after her, her eyes pleading for help, but Eirene was too far away to do anything.

Langris glanced at the clock, "Listen, I really need to talk to you.”

"But I want -" Eirene was cut off when she felt a tug at her dress, and she looked down to see a young boy, bald and freckled, staring up at her with eyes wide as saucers.

"Hi!" She greeted warmly, kneeling down beside him, "Are you lost?"

"Y-Yeah..." The boy hiccuped, rubbing his eyes, "I can't find my big brother and my big sister!"

Eirene glanced around to see if anyone was looking for him. 

"What about your parents?" She questioned. 

"M-Mama a-an-and P-P-Papa are dead!" He sobbed, his shrill wails carrying down the crowded markets.

Eirene's hand flew to her mouth and she glanced at Langris, panic in her eyes. Her other hand drew circles along the boy’s back as she said, “Hey. You’ve been very brave. Come on, let’s walk around and enjoy the festival while we find them.”

Langris was glaring at the boy. Who the hell did this little peasant boy think -

"Really?!" The boy gasped, effectively cutting short Langris' train of thought.

Eirene nodded, proceeding to hold his hand, "Of course! I'll buy you some cotton candy. Come on." 

"T-Thank you!" The boy said, a skip in his step as he latched onto Eirene’s hand.

Eirene flashed a toothy smile at him, "Don't mention it."

"Thank you too Mister!" The boy said to Langris, who tilted his head in confusion. He had done nothing to help the boy. He had spoken not a word to him. Yet the boy smiled like the entire world was his oyster.

"Langris, you're doing it again," Eirene nudged him.

"Doing what?"

"Your mouth is smiling but your eyes are not. It's terrifying."

The boy didn't seem to take notice of Langris' empty stare. Instead he grinned up at them, "Can you be my parents?"

Eirene started to cough, her face turning red as she patted her chest multiple times, "H-Ha, what?"

"C-Can you be my parents?" The boy asked again, eyes drooping slightly when she didn’t respond.

"L-Langris, you haven’t spoken much! You can answer," Eirene said, patting his back as she laughed fervidly. Langris gave her a look before he turned to the boy, bending slightly to meet his gaze evenly. Plastering a brief, sharp smile, he said, 

"Listen. I hate kids."

Eirene let out a small cry. She quickly shoved Langris away from the boy's line of sight before smiling nervously, "He doesn't mean that!" And again when she saw the tears in the boy's eyes, she repeated, "He really doesn't mean that! Do you, Langris?" She shot daggers at him, her tone of voice warned against further stubbornness. Langris considered his options. He was not, after all, looking to start some sort of conflict or ruin his reputation like this.

' _I'll strangle you_ ,' she mouthed, eyes flashing.

He pursed his lips, swallowing his pride. He inhaled sharply and quickly said, "I do. N... Not. Hate you."

At that, the boy dried his tears and blushed lightly, "So does that mean you'll be my father?"

"Absolutely not.”

Eirene deadpanned, unsure what to say at this point, "Ah, you see... Uh..." But between the boy's strangled sobs and Langris' reluctance and the commotion of music and laughter around her, she felt completely lost. She covered her face with her hands and fingers running her forehead, but not long after, she was able to gather herself enough to offer comfort.

Langris found himself staring. _Eirene was pretty good with kids_ , he thought. Not that he'd want them any time soon ... Wait, not that he'd want them ... His thoughts stuttered to a halt. When did Eirene's eyes get so bright? Surely it was just because she was so happy. Surely it was just the myriad of colours from the festival.

Soon enough, Eirene was able to calm the boy down to a serene tranquility, through bribing him with sugary sweets and savory goodness. And eventually, they managed to find his siblings.

Her heart warmed - but not for long.

"You look distracted," she pointed out, her eyes questioning his averted one.

Langris stayed quiet, brows furrowed in thought. He met her gaze for the flicker of a heartbeat before he looked away again.

"Is this what that kid said about us being parents?" She stifled a laugh, "He's five, come on!" The laugh evaporated from her lips when she noticed how solemn he looked.

"Eirene, I need to tell you something," he said, voice low.

"Yeah?" She found herself whispering.

The silence stretched for a moment longer, taut and electric. 

Before he could say anything, they were called to assemble in preparation for the long awaited announcements of the Star Festival.


	10. Solid Silva and Eireneola Vermillion

“So, this is what it's come to,” the next Vaude heir said. “Marriage.” 

The Noble-woman tried for a friendly, soft smile and held out a hand to shake. “Perhaps we can set aside our differences? For our families.” At this, she glanced over at his elder brother with a sad smile. 

“Of course,” Langris offered her a singularly beautiful smile, clasping his hand and then leaning in to press a kiss to her cheeks, drawing her into a conciliatory embrace. _‘I’m going to tear my heart out with my own teeth before I ever marry you, royal or not, no matter what my mother says,’_ he thought. But to be painfully honest, he had no idea how he was going to get out of this one.

Finesse pulled back, of course completely unaware of the storm brewing in his mind, so she smiled again, and people clapped. 

Eirene watched from the crowd, her stomach squirming, her instincts tugged in opposite directions. Old memories and new realisations struggled for control. This was not how she had expected when King Kira declared he had something to announce before the Squad Rankings. He had brought out his niece, and then called up Langris onto the stage but _what in the name of the seven bloody hells?!_

"You look like you're about to puke," she heard someone say beside her.

"I am," she mumbled. The festival blurred around her in a carnival smear of colour and delighted, gawping faces. Ugh. 

She raised her head to gaze up at him, "What do you want, Solid? Are you here to gloat about how your squad rank is above mine?"

He shook his head, but there, at the corner of his lips was a crease of amusement, "No."

"Then?" 

"Just wanted to point out how sick you look."

She snorted, rolling her eyes, "This is absurd. What the hell is this stupid marriage supposed to be? They've never even met - the audacity of that King! Damn it If he wants a Goddamn Royal..." She groaned, "I'm a Royal! I mean, if the next heir of Vaude had to marry a Royal then - Why- …” Her nose wrinkled in disgust, “God, I sound like you right now. Gross."

Solid glanced at her through half lidded eyes, an amused half smirk playing on his lips, "Who would have thought I'd see Eireneola Vermillion jealous?"

" _Jealous?!_ Why would I be jealous?" She scoffed incredulously. She watched Asta and Yuno make their grand entrance on stage, putting up a show, but she wasn't focused on them. "This is like... If the King were to suddenly announce our marriage or something. That's ridiculous, right?! Preposterous! Who the hell is Finesse Calmreich anyways?!"

"You really don't want to marry me that much?" Solid asked, his smirk widening, "Is that hatred? I can really see it. You hate me? I'm not quite sure what I’ve done to deserve that.” He pulled a wounded face. “I'm not _that_ bad.”

Eirene let out a soft chuckle, slightly thrown off by his words, "I don't hate you. And yeah, you're not that bad, but you're still kind of bad, sometimes. Just a little bit." She drew her fingers into a tight pinch to highlight her point.

She sighed. The crowd was getting a little suffocating. She pushed through a hoard of people and spotted a nearby bench, far away enough from anyone else. Solid slumped down next to her, leaning his elbows on the ledge behind him. 

A small smile played on his lips, seeming as deliberate as his previous impassiveness had been. His gaze was intent, "I might have an idea to make you feel better."

There was a pause as he tilted his head to look at the sky, eyebrows furrowed, deep in though, before he perked up. The gears in his head began turning for a second, and then -

"Here," he said, reaching into his satchel and producing a bottle of Clover famous sake.

"Er... Why are you carrying this around?" Eirene grabbed the bottle from him, swished the liquid around and unplugged the muselet. She peered down, the tip of her nose grazing the mouth of the bottle and she scrunched up her face. "Gross."

"Come on, I'll drink a little with you," he offered.

"Fine, but I know when you say a little, that means an entire bottle," she took a sip of the thing, immediately feeling the burn in her throat. "It feels like a bee stung my throat."

This made Solid laugh a little, "Weird analogy, but not untrue." 

"Come on, you said you'd drink too," she shoved the bottle at his face, shaking its content enticingly. “You know you want to.”

The smile grew, lazily, on his face, "Well, I won't say no if you truly insist." 

This made Eirene think of that time they both tried sipping on alcohol for the first time. Solid ended up dripping wet, his shirt and pants were torn and his boots had been missing a chunk. Eirene's hair had been in flames - literal flames, there were burnt marks on the exposed skin, along with peculiarly shaped bruises and a few teeth marks.

Conclusion? Alcohol and Magic were not a good combination.

Of course, when Fuegoleon saw this he had spat out his tea and he had looked at Mereoleona accusingly, who burst into uncontrollable laughter. Nozel had narrowed his eyes, looking completely unimpressed, and Nebra had mirrored her older brother's expression but she had pinched their cheeks and teased them about their amateur play-act.

Still they had held their heads high that day, not letting the aching in their skulls get the best of them.

Come to think of it, she and Solid had quite a few fond memories she could recall. Yes, he could be vile towards others. Yes, he could be a pain in the ass. But ever since their first meeting - the first time they declared each other rivals due to Fuegoleon and Nozel's rivalry - was perhaps the first time they truly acknowledged one another.

Solid vividly remembered the first time he met Eirene. _The long lost member of the Vermillion family? Don't mess with me,_ he had thought, but of course the uncanny resemblance she had to her siblings, and that flaming red hair that he had chosen to address because she was next to a flower bed full of cluster delphiniums and her hair clashed so noticeably with the blue flowers.

And when the adults had tended to business that day, they had sat in that exact same flower bed, while he showed off his water serpent and she accidentally almost burnt all the flowers into a crisp. 

"You gotta beat your brother one day, and you probably will. I'll be sure to watch," she had said back then in mock seriousness.

"I don't take orders from you," came his reply, but all he could think about was why their attributes had to be so different. So in opposition to each other. Did that mean they had to be like that too?

And then Nebra had gone and asked about Eirene's skin care routine - and being a seven year old back then, probably had no clue, and Eirene had said _"Steam is a good solution"_. Solid was confused but then she had grinned up at him, mischief brewing in her eyes as she whispered a small plan in his ears.

"You're insane for coming up with this plan, and I'm insane for going along with it," he had whispered back.

"They do say that the difference between insanity and genius is paper thin," she had responded with a grin.

And he wasn't sure what really happened next, but his water spell had been shockingly blue against Eirene's fiery red backdrop, and out bloomed a mushroom cloud of mist and steam. And from then, bloomed an unlikely but colorful friendship.

“Hey Solid,” Eirene whispered, effectively breaking his train of thought.

“Yeah?”

Eirene wasn't sure how much they've drank at this point but she was suddenly capturing Solid's hand in hers and she couldn't help but think how warm it was. So why did her heart feel so cold?

Throughout their teenage years, Eirene and Solid attended a disproportionate amount of parties. Charity galas, royal functions and social events. They were a conspicuous pair. And they looked good together, tall and striking, completely opposites and beautiful. They were young and wealthy and glamorous; in love, people used to say, so in love, so in love.

Eirene didn’t understand. In love? As far as she knew, there was only one person she loved, in that way, and that person wasn’t Solid Silva.

“Let’s find somewhere warmer,” Eirene suggested. 

They took their fifth shot of sake and made their way into an open room in the castle, one with a nice looking water fountain they leaned against. While Solid played nice with some Nobles that had chatted them up, Eirene looked up fuzzily at the chandeliers. They winked at her in all multi-prismatic brilliance, asking whether she was only here with Solid because Langris felt so far away now.

 _No, no, no, that's not it,_ thought Eirene, in Japanese, English, French, German or Dutch, the beautiful languages of her childhood she had learned. She was half-tipsy on the alcohol, so much stronger than wine, and chattier for it; so she talked to herself, a strange conversation conducted in piecemeal languages bound together only by faint undertones of a Finnish accent. 

_This couldn’t just be about Langris,_ she told the light. Although they would look good together and she knew she loved him more than ever now. In any case, it wasn't about loneliness. She liked Solid, he was her best friend too. 

The only difference was this -

She likes Solid, but she loves Langris.

Perhaps she loves Solid, but she loves loves loves _loves_ Langris.

Maybe it was because he was her first friend. Maybe it was because she saw in him what she saw in herself when she looked in the mirror. And maybe that’s why he saved her, and maybe that’s why she continued to save him. 

Because they both believed that happiness came with pain but at the same time they both knew that shouldn’t be true.

Because they both believed that love was recognition, recognition was love. 

Because she needed something constant in her life, and he was that constant. 

That at least, had never changed.

Until now. 

And she was lonely.

This time the lights believed her.


	11. Best Friend

Solid opened his eyes, and he wasn't sure when he had really closed them, to see that Eirene was staring at him with such an intensity that it nearly knocked him across the field. That weird flash of desire he felt in her fingers didn't really match the guilt flashing behind her eyes. She let her fingers trail along the lines of his palms before pulling away, and he leaned away a little, trying to reign in the somersault of emotions rushing through his body. He quickly tried to admonish whatever sinful thoughts that bolted around in his mind.

Feeling embarrassment stealing the colour from her cheeks, she leaned back too. Inwardly smiling as her shoulder graced his, she took another sip of the sake. _Maybe it’s the alcohol,_ her mind reasoned to the wonderment of their palatable anticipation.

"What are you two doing here?" Nozel's sharp voice pierced through their blur of careless emotions. 

Eirene blinked back into focus, specifically at the end of the braid that kissed the tip of Nozel's nose. She'd always wondered how he'd gotten it so perfect. "Sake?" she asked in offering. 

"Solid, you were supposed to help me with some paperwork tonight," Nozel glared down at his brother, whose eyes widened at the realisation that he had screwed up.

"Brother Nozel," Solid practically shot up from his seat, his face burning with red, red, red. He wet his lips nervously, bursting into an incomprehensible slur. His smile thinned and he flicked Eirene a semi-apologetic shrug before following his brother.

Eirene's eyes were threatening to flutter close but it flew open once more when she realised another figure was approaching.

“Langris, hello, hello,” she greeted, her words smearing against one another. "You... You're getting married, hey?” She decided against asking why his cold, steel green eyes were narrowed in the form of a glare and instead tapped the empty seat next to her. 

Langris sat. He could feel heat rising to his head and a thumping through the veins of his wrist. He had seen a little bit more of Solid and Eirene than he’d liked, but instead of bringing it up, he just stated, "I guess I am getting married.”

He braced himself, expecting some sort of hug from her or a "Congratulations!" or a "Wow! You're getting married to a Royal!" or something his parents' and their friends have said to him. But she huffed out a breath that might have been a laugh, except she didn’t look happy at all. In fact, somehow, she looked miserable.

“Cool.”

Eirene leaned over the perfectly manicured hedges of the water fountain, humming absentminded tunes as she dipped her fingers in the water. She thought back on all the times she'd secretly hoped Langris had been flirting with her, all the times they’d been close, all the lingering stares and hands on shoulders and sharp exchanges that she considered banter, and her heart dropped to her stomach. Ah. This was what it was after all. Jealousy. Envy. Hurt. All she had hoped there was between them was in her imagination. God damn it, Finesse Calmreich of all the Royals in the Kingdom?

He could tell that she was upset, but there was an odd senseless look in her eyes he didn't recognize. As she twirled her fingers in the water, creating empty whirlwinds and steam in the fountain, he racked his mind wondering why. He winced when she smiled tenderly at him. There was something off about her smile, and he couldn't figure out what.

"So?" She prompted, "Why didn’t you tell me?"

"Tell you?" He asked.

Her expression turned cold in an instant, "Finesse. What else?" She spat out the word like it was venom in her mouth.

"What about her?" His brain stuttered and caught up with his words. He amended, "Alright. Why is it such a big deal?" 

"How could it not be?" She stared at him, too long to be considered mannered, a little dumbstruck. She retorted, "That's like... if I were to tell you I'm betrothed to ... Solid! Or something..."

His stomach lurched uneasily. There was nothing good about the thought of her in a wedding dress, married to Solid Silva. Langris concentrated on evening out his breathing, in ensuring that his expression was blank. He would give away nothing. 

"So what, now, you're telling me you're getting married to him?" He asked, "I thought you had better taste."

Eirene only glared, her eyes becoming slits of angry light, "Yeah, I thought I did too."

It felt like somewhere deep inside his heart, he knew what she'd meant, but he heard himself say, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Eirene crossed her arms tightly across her chest and exhaled long and slow, "Nothing important. You can be with Finesse, and I can be with Solid. Alright?" 

Langris just sat in astonished silence. His head reeled. Why had this night gone horribly, horribly wrong? First, he saw a sight that made him want to vomit, because he swore they were inches from kissing, and now, this. He opened his mouth to apologize only for it to be slapped close by the pride that simmered and overflowed inside him. 

He just sighed and ran a hand wearily through his hair. His anger and indignation bled away quickly.

"For the record, I was going to tell you before the King assembled everyone."

"Oh, that's why you looked so pale. I thought you were constipated, maybe," she replied with a dry laugh.

"Yeah, well. Again, it's not a big deal."

A mirthless smile curled her lips, "Yeah. You're right. Do what you want." And then she found herself thinking to that little orphan boy from hours ago, and she wondered if she would ever have kids on her own someday, and why it felt like someone had just bought a pair of the world's biggest scissors and cut apart her dream like it was nothing but paper-mache.

 _You're right_?! Langris thought to himself. Since when did Eirene ever say the words 'Y _ou're righ_ t' willingly, without a knife pressed to her throat?

“Why do you care so much?” He regretted asking the question the second it slipped out of his mouth, regretted caring what the answer might be. But, well, he’d known that he was always fond of her when they were kids (and anyone knew he wasn't fond of anyone, really), but it wasn’t like he had expected to actually be in lo- 

This stupid marriage had been political decision. All his family wanted was a good show. A token gesture. Something to seal the deal and bridge a gap. It didn’t have to be more than that. It wasn't. It would never be.

Eirene's expression softened. She seemed surprised - whether that Langris asked, or by the fact his asking suggested he didn’t know already. 

“Do I need a reason?” 

“No. But I suspected you had one," he looked at her, studying her. 

She looked at him for a long moment in silence. 

His heart hammered. 

With an almost cruel smile as she looked at him, "Because you’re my family." 

And any lingering anger Langris had welled up was chased away immediately by the look on her face. It was promptly replaced by panic, not giving him a chance to catch his breath and gather himself.

"Well, I'm the next heir, so I have to. You know I don't have a choice, right?" He said, his voice faltering. A sense of desperation pooled in his chest, and he wasn't sure why he felt this. Desperation? Please. It never appeared in his vocabulary. Justification? Why would anyone feel the need to do so? ... Why would he feel the need to do so now?

His mouth parted. He tried to collect the erratic mess of his thoughts. When he couldn’t, he resorted to telling her how much she meant to him in the only words he knew how to say,

"You're my best friend."

She gave him her best smile. Hammered it to her face like nails on a coffin. 

"You're my best friend too," she said, her voice cracking.

The water fountain behind them had reduced to a barely inaudible dribble, and the lights flickered off. She could feel her heart quivering in her chest, her throat tightening up with an all too familiar sensation. And then she rested her head on his shoulders, and he couldn't help but feel a sort of anger inside him as he remembered that a few moments ago, this could have been Solid Silva if he hadn't intruded. But then her hand wrapped fiercely around his, almost like she was afraid to let go and he could feel himself relax. 

When his eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, he saw her eyelids close in an expression he could only describe as grief-stricken acceptance. To his surprise, she laughed, "I'm really happy for you." 

And through her tears she was smiling. But there was something in her expression, he realised. Something so broken and fractured and _pained_.

"Really happy," she repeated.

He reeled, his heart stopped. What in the fuck was that supposed to mean? Happy? Really? It just took that split moment - her timid demeanor, her earnestness, the sparkle of sincerity in her eye - to bring his entire world to a halt. Where he thought he had things figured out, finally, there was chaos again. He couldn’t think in a straight line, couldn’t focus on his words without wondering what the hell had just happened.

“You don’t mean that, do you?” 

As the crescent moon greeted the sky and the clouds parted, Langris suddenly remembered Eirene telling him the other day that clouds weighed a million pounds. And for some reason, it felt like those same clouds have somehow landed on his chest and there's an entire sky in his chest that he couldn't ever lift with her here, and he didn't really want to.

"Eirene?" 

When he glanced down between their bodies, he saw that her left hand was gripping his arm, and her knuckles were white as her fingers clenched onto his, her head lolling about on his shoulder.

"Are you ... Asleep?"

He glanced at her and did a double take. Flushed cheeks, deep hues of fierce crimson against her face, ribbons of fire spiraling around her fingers - 

"Eirene, what the hell are you dreaming of?" He asked, slightly alarmed, eyes raking the ground for something to put out the fire. He wanted to reach back to the fountain but was afraid of waking her up. "Are you ... trying to kill someone in your sleep?"

Langris took a deep breath, let it out slow and shaky. The threat of being wed to someone he didn't even mildly like was too real and he didn't want to accept it. No, he couldn't. He just couldn't.

"Hey -"

"Die."

Langris blinked. "...Excuse me?"

Eirene made an odd noise in her throat.

"Eirene?" He tried again.

She shifted.

"You can't get married if the bride is dead."

He stared at her, stunned. Her eyes were still closed so he knew for sure that she was completely asleep. He couldn’t help but chuckle. The fire in her palm flared once before dying down completely.

It was easier for him to think in the dark. It was almost like she's not even here, even though he was holding her hand. He hesitated for a moment. "When I said best friend... That's not what I mean," he spoke.

Her grip tightened, and it caught him by surprise. "Really?" she mumbled, though he wasn't waiting for an answer. He held his breath. He was so sure she’d been asleep.

"Yes. You're more,” he said after a long pause.

She hummed, mumbling something he couldn't discern.

“Good night, Eirene.”

Wide awake now with his thoughts spinning like a carousel set to hyper drive, he shifted, just slightly, gently putting his cloak over her as she snored lightly against his shoulder.


	12. Brothers and Sisters

Finral always knew there was something peculiar about Eirene when he first met her. First of all, she was almost as terrifying as her older sister, she had an affinity for hell magic, weird taste in humor, and a disarming, permanent grin.

But what was the most disconcerting, at least to him, was how his bizarre little brother, of all the mages in this realm, had managed to captivate her.

If Finral didn’t know any better, he’d think she'd have been brainwashed and perhaps he'd have to grab her by the shoulders and shout in her face. If half the things she did to Langris, she’d done to Finral, he absolutely would have fallen for her.

"So... Just friends?" Finral asked after a brief pause.

Eirene glanced at him. Upon the news of Finesse and Langris a few weeks ago, she had gone to Finral the very next day to bombard him with questions - "Did you know he had a fiance?" and "Why didn’t I know?" and "What's that look in your eyes? Wait, are you blushing? Do you love her or something? … Wait, you actually do, don’t you?"

The short answer was - "Yes, I knew", and the longer one was, "Yes, I knew because I was in love with her and still am."

And so, she had responded back with, "I'm not happy with this, so you better work your ass off to be the next heir."

Finral, of course, being Finral, had paled and nodded vigorously. 

Back to the present day, Eirene walked with Finral along the Royal Capital, as she awaited Captain Vangeance, and Finral awaited Captain Yami to finish their meeting. Eirene had always got along quite well with Finral, despite Langris' many, many objections.

Finral saw better than anyone how Eirene felt towards his younger brother - careful of her feelings without overstepping any boundaries. After all, who better to know than someone who was experiencing it first hand? Langris, and perhaps even Eirene herself may have been oblivious to her own feelings, but it was clear as day to Finral.

"What about you?" She asked him.

"Well, I do have other lady friends, you know. Look, there's a cutie over there!" He squealed as he laid his eyes on a woman (who, to his dismay, whispered something to her friend before walking the other way). Then in a more solemn tone, he admitted stoically, "I'll be whatever she needs me to be. She'd never admit it, but I don't think she's particularly happy about this arrangement you know? But... If she needs a friend or a shoulder, that's what I'll be for her."

"Wait, so you're going to let her go just like that? But don't you love her?" Eirene protested.

"It... doesn't matter. I'm not going to get between them. It's their fate. She was never mine to begin with," Finral responded calmly.

"Fate? … What are you talking about? Shouldn't this be some sort of catalyst for you? ... Don't you feel the need to work harder to become the next heir?" She asked, stopping in her steps. “I know you can. I know you have it in you.”

This seemed to strike a chord within Finral. He stopped, a sad smile on his lips, "Eirene, you've seen first hand how my Mother and Father look at me. They're never going to give me the time of day."

"So make them!" She sputtered. 

Finral's expression softened and he chuckled lightly. He sympathized with her. He really did. He ruffled her hair, "I will try my absolute hardest, okay?! In the meantime... You and Solid Silva?" He grimaced a little.

"I used to have a crush on him when I was little you know,” she said with a laugh, “But… I don’t know. My heart isn’t there.”

“Ah… I hate feelings.” Finral sighed. There’s no trace of bitterness in his voice, just resignation. “Maybe it's our fate to play the part of unrequited love."

“Maybe,” she agreed absently before leaving. “I need to go. Training.”

She didn’t actually have training planned that day, although she figured, why not go anyways? What better way to let loose than shedding blood?

But for some reason her feet had done a complete one-eighty from the training grounds of the Vermillion residence and instead dragged her over to a place she every so often could find comfort in.

“Good evening, Lady Eireneola,” the guards greeted with a courteous display of a bow.

“Good evening. Are Solid and Nebra in today?” She asked.

“Yes, Lady Eireneola. Master Solid and Lady Nebra are currently training in the courtyard.”

Eirene gave the guards a perfunctory smile of thanks before heading inside. She knew that ‘training’ for Nebra meant ‘doing other things but training’ and ‘in the courtyard’ meant ‘in her room’. 

“Hi,” Eirene greeted, poking her head in Nebra's room. “Oh? You’re actually practicing your magic.”

Nebra looked a little sheepish, “...Yeah.” She tucked her Grimoire away, “I don’t think I’ll be joining the Royal Knights exam in a week’s time.”

“Why not?” Eirene furrowed her brows.

Nebra shrugged. “Don’t feel up to it. Although I hear Solid’s joining.”

Eirene kicked out her shoes and climbed onto the bed, collapsing face first into a pillow. Wincing as friction burns crawled up her arms, she shifted to her side, “Are you nervous?”

Nebra hesitated. Cheeks aflame, she hurriedly denied the possibility, “No, of course not. Who do you think I am?”

Eirene’s hands flew up, “Alright, alright, whatever you say. But anyways…” she shuffled to bury herself inside the blanket, “I heard Noelle’s joining too. I heard she’s grown strong.”

In an instant, Nebra’s face turned sour, “Noelle. What an embarrassment. Honestly.” Her shoulders visibly stiffened, the scowl on her face deepening. “She taints the Silva name.”

“She’s really not that bad,” Eirene tried, but she knew Nebra has always been so stubborn. Just like Eirene herself, Nebra believed only in what her eyes could see, and words alone weren’t going to cut it. “What about that saying, 'kill them with kindness'? Why not try that a little?” Eirene only half jested.

“No thank you,” Nebra replied pointedly. 

Eirene ignored that entirely, “There’s no such thing as being too kind.”

It went quiet for a moment before Nebra said, “There is.”

“Elaborate?”

“There’s a thin line between being kind and too kind, not that I’d know much about it,” Nebra said after a while. “Kindness could kill you too. It makes you vulnerable.”

“Vulnerability doesn’t make you weak,” Eirene argued firmly, remembering her siblings’ words. “It’s courageous.”

“Vulnerability is shameful.”

“Is it?” Eirene shifted slightly, elbows boring her upwards, “it’s not the darkness everyone thinks it is.”

“It is terrifying.”

“It’ll set you free in ways you can’t imagine.”

“It will be your _downfall._ ”

It goes quiet for another long moment. 

Nebra sighed and brushed at her bangs idly, sweeping them away from her eye, “I didn’t mean that in such a cruel way. I’m just trying to protect you and your pride.”

Eirene smiled up at her, knowing that pride was something Nebra loved to flaunt like a crown, and the fact that she had said those words made Eirene feel pretty grateful. It felt like a praise somehow, that her pride was worth Nebra’s protection.

“I know. It’s okay.” 

The corners of Nebra’s lips teased into an all knowing smile, her eyes glinting with coy and mischief as she said, “So… I heard you and Solid had a moment the other night.”

Eirene inhaled so sharply in surprise that she choked because “What?!” She coughed viciously and forced herself to sit up, thumping her hand against her chest.

Nebra laughed and patted her on the back, “Aw, you’re blushing.”

Eirene struggled for air, “I’m choking.”

Nebra laughed. “And then I heard you and Langris did too…? You’re not playing with my brother’s heart, are you?” She quirked a brow, almost earnestly, holding back a million questions that rushed through her brain.

“Wh-What?!… No...” Eirene felt her face catch fire, her mouth gaping open as her blank mind tried to make sense of what Nebra was saying.

“I’m kidding. I’m only kidding. Here,” Nebra offered her a glass of water, her mouth twisting up in amusement. 

Eirene took it gratefully, scoffing a little. “You’re terrible,” she said through gulps of water.

Nebra’s usual stern gaze softened a little around the edges. “I know you’ve made up your mind. The uncertainty in your eyes from when we were younger isn’t there any more.” Her expression was unreadable, but there was something almost searching in her gaze and Eirene couldn’t help but wonder what she was really looking for. “It’s okay. He may be my little brother, but you’re also my friend.”

At that, Eirene smiled crookedly, showing the sharp edge of a tooth, “You know you’re like a sister to me.”

Nebra made a sound almost like a scoff, but a smile split across her face. “I would’ve liked to be your sister in law.”

Eirene could tell Nebra was about to say something else, perhaps about Solid, but the door to her bedroom opened and then Nebra’s eyes flickered with something Eirene recognised as supposition. Eirene spun around, just in time to see thick wavy hair and flowing aqua cape, both sported by Langris, who stood in the doorway.

“Hey, Nebra?” Eirene looked at her for clarification, her brows crinkling in confusion.

Nebra shrugged as Eirene’s gaze burned curiously against the side of her face, “It’s fine. I let him in.”

Eirene looked surprised by that answer, as if it was the last thing she expected to hear. “You? You let him in?” She repeated, for verification, and Nebra nodded. She leaned back against the bed frame and waved them away, and there was almost a smile on her face too.

“O….kay,” Eirene could only say. She met Langris’ gaze once more. “Er… Hi,” she greeted, opting to ignore her obvious blush and aimed for nonchalance. 

“Hi,” he greeted, voice even as can be, “I need to talk to you.”

“Last time you said that, it ended up being ‘I’m getting married’. I don’t know if I want to hear that right now,” she confessed, with a small laugh.

“It’s not like that this time,” Langris responded, his gaze softening.

Eirene searched his expression, some of the heat in her face ebbing away, “So what’s this one about?”

Langris’ eyebrows knitted together a bit at the sudden still in her voice. He crossed the threshold of the doorway and stood in front of her. He leaned, reaching out, his fingers spread in askance of her own.

“I’m not even asking this time,” she mumbled, remembering the last time he held her hand. 

“I know. But I am,” he said, voice bordering on breakable despite his resolve. His eyes glazed over hers, fire in water, passion in ice, “Can I?”

Eirene blinked slowly, considered the offer for a brief moment. 

She stood, collecting a well earned knowing look from Nebra before mumbling, “You idiot.” She slowly trailed her fingers along the knuckles of Langris’ hand and he immediately curled his fingers around her, giving them a squeeze.

She tilted her head back and sighed and it had the weight of a laugh on it, but there was a bittersweet expression twisting her face. She inhaled long and slow, her voice unspeakably tender. “You know you can.”


	13. Stars and Fate

_I don't have feelings for Eireneola Vermillion,_ Langris denied in his head as he found himself talking a little faster, a little softer, like he was trying to fill any vacancy in her head and her heart with the stories of his childhood. She was listening so intently, more than anyone had ever listened to him before. And then he realised he was talking too much so he just tried to end it with a question.

"How many stars are up there?” He asked suddenly.

“A lot.”

“How many is a lot?”

Anytime he looked up at the night sky, all he saw was an infinite expanse of empty blackness, one that reminded him too much of a different place. The only thing filling it were stars, millions of them, all of them turning their piercing gaze onto their world below.

Unspeaking, unthinking, yet all-seeing and all-knowing. He felt their scorn and their judgment from thousands of miles away; it was impossible to look at them for long.

Eirene turned her head so that she was no longer staring up at the vastness of the universe, but could instead gaze at green eyes, which was a much more breathtaking sight to behold. At least, according to her.

Langris had said he wanted to talk. And so she indulged in his request, but all they'd been doing was stare at the fragments of constellations above but now there was silence. She knew that he was having a difficult time and it took all she had to restrain herself from reaching out to embrace him in a hug. She decided to break the ice.

"She can be really nice to people she likes, it seems."

The sudden shift in topic tore Langris' eyes away from the night sky. He was silent for a moment, waiting for her to continue, and contemplating a proper response to that.

"Who?"

"Nebra."

"...Nebra,” he repeated flatly. “Really?” 

“Yeah,” she nodded. A pause. Then, “Do you want to talk? And I know we’ve been talking but… You know what I mean.” 

“Yeah, I just... “ A sigh settled weighted in his chest, dense as fog. _This is stupid_ , he thought, to be so nervous. What the hell did he have to be so nervous about, anyway? This wasn’t the first time they’ve had a serious conversation.

When Eirene sensed his hesitation, she decided to shift the subject, and perhaps trying to broach something so serious so quickly wasn’t the way to go after all.

“Are you feeling okay?” She asked instead.

Langris glanced at her from the corner of his eye, “About what?”

“This whole ordeal planned for you as the next heir.”

He didn’t really have much of a choice though, did he? He hesitated for a moment and then sighed and it’s shaky and unsure and this awful vulnerability only gaped wider inside of him and he hated it. But he couldn’t run away. He’d already settled on speaking to her about this. So he sat.

“Of course I’m okay,” he managed. “Who do you think I am?” But why the hell did his voice wobble like that? Right now? Why did he feel so… Breakable?

“But you know, there’s a difference in going through with it and actually _wanting_ to go through with it,” he amended.

“There is, isn’t there?” She asked softly, her voice uneven, tripping horribly on the last word.

The silence that passed between them seemed to last ions and Langris hung on to it with dreaded anticipation, and he didn’t dare look at her because he knew it was going to start a whirl of emotions that he wasn’t fully prepared to handle. 

His heart was beating a mile a second in his chest, too fast, way too fast, and he was starting to feel a little lightheaded. This was stupid.

“You can always tell me. We’re friends after all,” she said, and Langris looked at her, and the earnest sincerity on her face immediately made his heart sick with guilt. He swallowed it down, eyebrows creasing.

“I know.” How?

How was he going to tell her that his thoughts were so scattered - so, so scattered - and there’s a terrible lump in his throat and of course everything was not okay. 

“Do you believe in fate?” She asked, and her voice was suddenly taught. Intense. Quiet.

Before he had a chance to say anything, she had shifted the subject again, her voice almost irreverent as pinpricks of light reflected in her eyes, and then she started rambling off about the constellations and the meaning of everything, because to her everything has meaning and every meaning has a reason.

Langris could probably fill an entire library with the things she's ever said to him over the past nine years, but he wasn't about to tell her that, so he scoffed again, leaning on his elbows as he looked up at the sky and said, "And that’s Alpha Aquarii isn’t it? You’ve told me this four times by now. The second-brightest star in the Aquarius constellation, right?”

She smiled unabashedly at that and Langris had to glue his gaze skyward to keep from smiling back at her. She sat up, pulling her knees to her chest and laying her head down on them, tilting her head to look at him, "Hey, Langris. Do you believe in fate and destiny?"

“No,” he said, in a voice that was so resolute it made his own heart go still. “What's the difference?”

"People feel limited by Fate, and they use it as a scapegoat for when life is going awry and out of control. Destiny is sort of the same, but kinder. It makes people think they have a predetermined reason for being alive. Two sides of the same coin." Her stare sharpened. "And of course there’s free will. Do you believe in that?" 

Langris kept his gaze up. Above him was an arrangement of an inkwell of deepest blue and bright, the moon languid above it all, shining silver over Eirene's upturned smile. 

"I don't know," he could only respond. 

“Really?” She asked, her eyes now glassy with tears, “Because fate or destiny would mean you’re supposed to marry Finesse. But free will means you can try to prevent that. To choose your own fate. So I’m interested to see what your answer is." She felt the heat of the tears in her eyes spill over and she frantically reached up to wipe them away, turning her face so that Langris won’t see them. “G-God, I’m sorry. Sorry. I -I don’t know what’s gotten into me -”

“It’s okay.” His thumb pressed roughly into her wrist but she didn’t jerk away. 

Instead, she turned her face back to him, cheeks damp, eyes still hot with tears. God, her heart hurt. 

Langris’ eyes were burning, bright and alive and intense as he met her gaze head on. Everything about him was open, from the fire in his expression, to the tilt of his shoulders and even the angle of his hips. He’d never been so vulnerable and she had never been so sure that she was in love with him.

“I’m not marrying her,” he vowed and the uncertainty inside him snapped. “I’ve told my mother and father. They're convinced they can change my mind, but they can’t.”

The tears ran more thickly now on Eirene’s face and she didn’t ask before she leaned over and buried her face against Langris’ neck. He wrapped her arms around her, pulled her in tightly, so tightly, because he needed this too. So unlike the first embrace they shared at the Wizard King’s headquarters, where he didn’t even recognise what a hug was. She curled both arms around him and leaned into him heavily.

He found his thoughts drifting back to the topic of marriage once more, and as he recalled conversations over constellations in the night sky and the way she reminded him goodness existed in this world, he thought he might not mind it all so much with this one. Marriage.

 _There must be a star inside this girl,_ he thought. Because right now despite the evening air it was bright and hot and the gravity was inescapable. Love crawled up his throat and sat steady on the tip of his tongue.

Wait - Love? All this was uncharted territory for him, questions he'd never thought to ask until this moment right here with her. He couldn't think of an explanation for this. Did he even want to? He hardly ever questioned himself. Apprehension caught in his throat, and the desire to be impulsive for once chased away the trepidation. And he trusted her, he knew that much. Trusted that she wouldn't overreact if he asked her this one thing he hadn't been able to get off his mind, no matter how hard he tried. It was straight forward and sincere, 

"Can I kiss you?"

And he felt breakable and invincible and brave and terrified, all at once. His blood pulsed beneath his skin, scalding and thick, loud in his ears, his heart pressing bruises into his rib cage from the inside. 

"Yes,” she said quietly, voice thick with wanting, half-delirious with it. "Yes." 

He brushed his fingers against painted stars of tears on her cheeks, closed what little distance between them and felt himself ignite. The usual spark of lightning that coursed through him was absent and yet whatever he was feeling felt similar. Unlike anything he’d felt before, and also everything he’d ever known combined into a single moment. 

The world stopped spinning for the moments they spent pressed together, and when they broke apart, his hand was somehow entangled in her hair, and the world was spinning far too quickly. 

“Again,” she whispered, kissing him.

Again, again, again.


	14. Parallel Universe

It wasn't hard for Langris to tell when Eirene was in deep thought. She became quieter, frowned a dozen times more than usual. Her expressions would be rife with discourse, and she never wanted to do anything about it. 

He always waited to see if she would come to him before he asked questions. But this time, she certainly wasn't making it easy for him. 

Langris was in the middle of training when he spotted her walking by, her expression a mixture of impatience and seriousness. She seemed to be mumbling something, but Langris was too far to hear what he was saying. His magic faltered, prompting the end of the practice session. The Royal Knights Exam was taking place in a few days, but this preceded in importance.

"Someone clean this up," he told the Golden Dawn members gruffly, starting after her.

And now he found himself embarking on a journey along the mountain range of an icy realm. How did he get here and how had he not caught up to her yet? It was getting more and more difficult to see in front him; the snow was thick and obstructing the view ahead.

It wasn't until he almost reached an entrance of a cave that she said, "You're not a very good stalker."

He jumped a little, startled before huffing a breath, "You looked like you were about to tear someone apart. Just wanted to make sure no one was hurt."

"Oh?" She quirked a brow, leaning close to him. "How nice of you. Are you sure you didn't just want to see me?" She said softly and with the utmost conviction. This felt awful close to a love confession, and somehow, the thought of it didn't scare him. He felt steady. Calm. Sure. And so very, very warm. “Do tell," she prompted again.

He rolled his eyes, tossing his gaze away as he felt a blush creep up onto his face. "Maybe that too."

God, his thoughts kept coming back to last night. It wasn't like he wanted to... But at the same time, he didn't want to stop thinking about it.

The way that she had looked up at him. How wide and searching her eyes had been, how her voice had cracked when she begged for him to kiss her. He shivered when he remembered how responsive she had been, clinging to him as if it was the only reason she had managed to stay upright. The whole thing was so vivid that Langris could still taste the salt of Eirene's skin and feel the heat in her blood, and the way she had moaned out his name - 

He cleared his throat and fixed his gaze on the mouth of the cave. It suddenly seemed fascinating. But it was all he could think about. When did the feeling in his chest get so dense and heavy with wanting he could feel it draped over him in every one of his waking (and sleeping) moments?

When did the word crush become so infantile and love crawled its way inside of his mouth and made its home there? It tasted sweet and warmed him like his favorite cherry tarts and he didn't know what it was like to be cold anymore.

"Langris?" Eirene asked.

"Hm?" He mumbled, distracted, breath catching loudly when she grazed her lips over from the side of his jawline to his cheeks. 

“Are you listening to me?” She rumbled, hot breath brushing against his skin. He tracked the path of her mouth as it pressed to the edges of his lips.

“Yeah.”

"Yeah? Then tell me what we're doing here," she hissed at the crook of his neck, lingering when she met his muddled gaze, his face flushed with warmth and tipped with heat. She kept staring at his lips bitten red, "Are you okay? Do you have a fever or something?"

She pressed a hand to his forehead, and this seemed to break through Langris a bit more. He blinked as if coming out of a haze, finally seeming to settle back into his body. “What?” He whispered. 

“I want to go universe hopping.”

Langris’ thoughts came to an abrupt stop and he turned to her in an instant, “What?” He nearly demanded, voice intense and Eirene didn't jolt back although she was surprised at the snap of his outburst. “That’s dangerous, I told you.”

"Oh? I didn't realize I'm dating a wuss. Who are you and what have you done with Langris Vaude?” She crowed, a smile teasing at the corner of her mouth.

“We’re dating now?” He arched a brow.

Eirene was pretty sure she wasn’t imagining the beginnings of a smirk on his face. She hoped the burn of her spotlight blush wasn’t obvious as she said, “If I say yes, will you take me on a date to another universe?” 

He frowned, “I’m serious.”

“So am I. I was trying to find a way to breach the topic with you …”

“...So that’s why you looked so deep in thought,” he deadpanned.

She would spend the next ten minutes trying to convince him and she would not relent. Someone had to give in. And it might as well be him, he thought. It would not be the first time.

They stepped into a universe of possibilities, the big scary unknown of a different world. They made their way through, and Eirene slid her fingers against Langris’ palm, tangling their fingers together. He had touched her so many times last night that she knew what it’d feel like, but now that she was thinking back on it, every last point of contact seemed so fleeting.

They stepped inside the portal, and it closed behind them. 

Eirene blinked, “Wait... It didn't work? We were just here.” 

Langris glanced around at his surroundings, left, right, forward, eyes landing on Eirene. She looked rather nice in that white dress. It was on the thin, fashionable side but the snow didn’t seem to be bothering her. He glanced up at the icicles hanging from above, worried that they might crack and topple over on her head. But that concern was subdued when he saw _himself_ leading her away from it -

That’s when alarm bells began to go off in his head.

He realised he was still holding hands with her. Eirene. His Eirene. Not the… 

His eyes followed the two figures in front of him. He rubbed his eyes. He could hear his other self’s mumbling and other Eirene’s rambling overlapping with each other, an unrecognizable jumble of words floating around in the blizzard. He could, however, make out the concern in his voice, and the thoughtfulness in hers, as they worked together to move past the snowstorm.

They looked exactly like them, with pointed ears and red marks etched on their faces … They almost looked like… Elves.

Something was off here, and he knew that Eirene was seeing it too. He wasn’t just seeing double, and that was enough of a relief for now.

“Can you help us?” 

Eirene’s eyes snapped up to see that the two figures were approaching, and for a minute she could only gawk. The resemblance was uncanny. 

“Wh- What? H-Help you?” She managed to ask. 

Her other self nodded, seemingly unfaltered to see another version of her face, like it was something so common in this realm. 

“My name is Aurelere, and I don’t want to go back,” she said, desperation clawing at her voice as she clutched at Eirene’s shirt. Eirene glanced at the other boy - his resemblance to Langris... It made her throat constrict a little with panic. 

“Ratri, not that you need to know,” he said, seemingly disinterested at this interaction. 

“Go back where?... W-Who are you?” Eirene asked, her hand still gripping so tightly onto Langris’, her eyes still darting wildly.

“T-There’s a spell…" Aurelere began, biting her lips and weaving her fingers in and out of each other. "There's a spell that he'll cast. It's better if that spell wasn't cast."

Eirene blinked, swallowed hard. She still couldn't understand what this girl was saying, yet the way her words rang seemed to have some sort of hold on Eirene, some sort of beckoning that made her feel safe and unsafe at the same time. "I -I don't understand. How can we save you? What part do we have to play in all of this? We were just ..."

"Universe hopping?" Ratri interrupted, following her train of thoughts, "It must be fate that you came into our universe then, because this is where souls wander between the living and the dead."

"What?!" Eirene blurted, "H-How... I... I still don't understand, I'm sorry. How do we save you? How..."

"You just have to! You have to save us. Please save us.” Aurelere whispered it like a litany of prayers, “Please. Please promise. Please!”

“From what?” Langris asked, startled by how eerily similar she sounded to Eirene. The only difference he could pinpoint at this moment was the colour of their hair and the infinite amount of Mana Ratri and Aurelere seemed to contain in their bodies.

“Tell me you’ll fight for us! Please! For the sake of your lives. Your kingdom! Your love!” Aurelere said again. Her face was pleading, her face open, dripping with the promise of sincerity and honesty.

“Y-You’re not making any sense.”

“The Kingdom will go up in flames. Your kingdom. You need to save it. And you need to save yourselves.” Ratri reiterated. “You’ll understand when the time comes.”

“Please promise!” Aurelere pleaded. Her expression was so wary, the blue of her eyes was frozen over like the surface of a lake in deep winter. Whatever rested beneath that thin layer of ice Eirene couldn’t yet determine. There were so many questions left unanswered. The atmosphere suddenly felt very tense.

"I don't know what I-" Eirene started, only to be cut off by Aurelere's cries.

"Please! I beg you! I _beg_ you!"

"But I -"

"Just promise you will save us all. Please." Ratri this time.

Apprehension set off in Eirene’s stomach like nausea, rolling around jerkily, a promise of foreboding lingering in its wake. “Okay, okay. I…I promise, I promise I’ll try,” Eirene heard herself say, hands closing Aurelere’s fistful of her cloak. Beside her, Langris tensed. His eyebrows were sharp over his eyes, his mouth a hard line.

"Thank you," Aurelere breathed, engulfing Eirene in a hug. She pulled away and the ice in her eyes did not thaw, but something shifted in her stare and immediately Eirene felt relieved. 

"I promise I'll try not to let you down. Okay? I just need an explanation right now," she said in a whisper, and she wasn't sure why she was whispering but this all felt like some sort of big secret she was meant to take to the grave.

Ratri let out a content hum, but he didn't answer her question. “I know you won’t. I can see it. We’ll be fighting too. I just…” He paused, a small smile on his lips, “I just wish we could have been friends with humans like you.”

“Humans… Like us?”

Langris gave Eirene's hand a squeeze. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. Ratri gave him a small smile, like he was trying to convey a secret meaning behind the softness of his grin. But before anyone could say anything more, the portal reopened behind them, and Langris and Eirene were thrown back to the annals of their own world.

Langris startled a bit at the unexpected break in the silence, pulling him out of his thoughts and the alternative universe, but now he felt like things made sense. It didn’t, but it did at the same time. He wondered where he’d gone wrong in casting that spell. Perhaps that wasn’t an alternate dimension, perhaps …

“What was that…?” Eirene breathed, voice quivering with uncertainty.

“Why did you… Promise them that we would try? We didn’t know who they were,” Langris said, but his tone wasn’t the slightest bit demanding. He was simply curious.

Eirene raised her hand to rub the back of her neck. “I’m not sure… It felt right, I guess…? Like promising to ourselves… Or something.” She admitted sheepishly. “It felt right but at the same time something also felt terribly off… Does that make sense?”

Langris found himself nodding. It did. He felt the same way. The slightly unhinged feeling that something wasn’t quite right. It made him feel a little nauseous with unease.

“And…” Eirene trailed off.

“And?” Langris asked.

She was grinning now, and he found himself relaxing too and wondering what could make her seem so at ease.

“And she said we have to save our love!” She giggled, her voice hinging on something wonderstruck and dream-like.

“Huh?” He deadpanned. Then he sighed, settling on allowing the tension to seep from his shoulders and fixing a smile in her direction. Love, huh? Langris finally understood what people meant now.

They kind of love you’d kill for.

The kind of love you’d fight for.

The kind of love you’d die for.

The kind of love you'd live for.


	15. Let Me Save You

Eirene scanned the main leader board for her next fight, clicking her tongue as her eyes glazed over the words, ' _Team G vs Team E'_. Langris against Finral. Eirene against Leopold. This'll be amusing.

As Eirene moved towards the field, and a hand on her shoulder stopped her tracks.

“Good luck,” Nebra whispered. She then giggled, like she knew something Eirene didn’t before spilling, “I can see it in your eyes, little sister. Don’t let love get in the way of your battle.”

“L-Love,” Eirene tried really hard not to blush as she stammered, “W-We… S-Shut up! We’re on the same team, I don’t see how anything’ll get in the way.”

"Team G and Team E. Please step forward!" Instructed the judge.

“Whatever you say,” Nebra rolled her eyes playfully before going off to resume her conversation with Solid.

Love? Eirene wondered. It wasn’t an unfamiliar thing, but she’d always been a firm believer in the things complementing her six senses.It felt more like an idea which existed fine in abstract, and in practice, it was extremely subjective to the eyes of the provider and of the provided.

Instead of tangling herself in the mess of dictionary definition, she tapped Leopold’s shoulder, “You ready?”

“Since the day I was born!” Leopold yelled, determination rising in those storm cloud eyes of his. “I do want to fight you and Aniue one day, but I didn’t realise the day would come where I could. So, I ask that you don’t hold back, Aneue!”

"Oh, don't worry. I don't plan on it," she laughed, ruffling his hair fondly. She walked towards her team, turning into a jog as she realised the two of her teammates had already gathered. 

“Lady Eireneola!” Sekke called out, the look on his face so filled with trepid she almost asked if he had battle anxiety.

“Sorry, I’m late,” she breathed. Confusion crinkled her expression as she registered Langris’ anger letting go with each passing second.

"I'm going to crush him," Langris muttered in response to her arched brow.

“You mean the crystal,” she corrected, but made no attempts to push when she finally looked at him. She could practically feel his hatred sweltering furiously inside him, demanding release in the form of unwanted violence. “Are you okay?” She tried.

He gave her a small smile that wasn’t quite forced, but it felt… Wrong. “I will show my brother which one of us is the stronger one.”

Eirene’s gaze lingered on him for a moment, looking like she was about to say something, but then she bit her lip and tore her gaze away. "Let's change up the formation," she declared, when Sekke conjured up his vehicle, "I'm sure Leo will attack, so let me guard the crystal."

"Okay," Langris nodded, stepping onto Sekke's Shooting Star. He glanced at her once more before turning his gaze forward. He could feel that his thoughts weren’t exactly in working order, but all he could think about right now was his desire for victory. “I expect you to take me to their crystal like last time, Mr.Bah-hah.”

"Bah-hah-hah-hah-hah!" Sekke laughed as he geared up and drove off, "Also, I'm Sekke. You can call me Sek!"

"Understood, Mister Bah-hah." Eirene could hear Langris reply absentmindedly. They drifted further away from her before they were nothing but just a spot of color in the field.

"Alright, let's see what you've got."

Eirene patted the crystal, making sure it hadn't gone anywhere before peeling her eyes open for any signs of movement.

As expected. Her lips curled into a smirk when she spotted her brother and his teammate rush towards them, Grimoires open and auras burning with confidence.

"Aneue!" Leopold shouted as he charged towards her. He wasted no time in commanding his first spell. "Fire Magic: Spiral Flames!" 

A similarity in their affinities, Eirene's flames leapt from her palms, reaching hungrily for Leopold's attack, before consuming his spell in an instant. 

The man beside him, who she recognised as Hamon from the Golden Dawn, flipped through the pages of his Grimoire. He tittered, throwing his hands up in the air, "Glass Magic: Verre Fleur!" 

“Oops, that was close!” Blade-like glasses rose from the ground and Eirene leaped back, landing as gently as possible on her crystal.

"Hell-fire Magic: Incinerate - Terra Firma!" She slammed her hands to the ground, showers of red spreading through her palms and to the soil, growing more intense by the second. "Glass breaks at two hundred degrees," she said with a smile. Her magic blazed through the ground, through the soil until around her was nothing but fiery imps and shards of gem-like pebbles of glass.

"That's amazing, Aneue! But I won't back down!" Leopold shouted with a fiery grin. He flipped through the pages of his Grimoire, "Fire Magic-" 

"I won't let you," she interjected, "My turn."

But what happened next was something near incomprehensible to her. Cluster of spark plugs in her abdomen. Accelerated thoughts in her head. A deluge of ice water surrounding every limb, rising up past her chest to her lips, to her entire face. 

"S-Something's wrong," she breathed in gasps.

"This is our chance!" Hamon squealed, "Glass Magic - "

“Y-Yes. Fire Magic -”

“W- ... ait -”

"The crystal has been broken! G team wins!" The judge announced through the comm, and Leopold wailed. “Oh, no! I took too long!”

Hues of red and orange lapped gingerly at Eirene’s fingers, as if they could feel the tension in her bones, and they showed no signs of yielding down. 

Leopold’s shouts of regret was cut short when he watched a blur of colors zip through him, and when he glanced back to where his sister was -

"Aneue?" He asked, concerning creasing in his voice when he realised she was gone.

Faster.

_Faster._

_Faster. Hurry._

Eirene’s feet almost slipped outwards on the wet leaves as she rounded the corner, the cold evening air shocking her throat and lungs as she inhaled deeper. Faster.

Something was wrong. 

Utterly, incomprehensibly wrong.

Jarring pain shot ankle to knee, ankle to knee. 

"Please let me make it in time," she cried aloud, throwing herself forward with even greater abandon. Her lungs and heart were pumping, but the air didn't seem to be enough as she sprinted forward, panic trembling in her limbs.

"Please!" She shouted at the sky, now overclouded grey and murky inks of cloud. Something was so terribly wrong.

"Langris!" 

Her hearing was the first to react, then her eyesight followed suit. She could hear him saying something, but he sounded distant and muffled. Three figures surrounded him, all sparks of energy and hypodermics of adrenaline as they pointed their weapons at him. Not to defend. To attack. To injure. 

"N-No way..." She whispered, panic growing in her chest like a tsunami. Asta's sword pointed at him, Magna and Luck's dangerously headed weapon at his throat.

"V-Vice Captain Eirene!" Asta shouted, "Stay... Back." Only she wasn't sure if he was afraid for her, or afraid of who she might have to encounter.

"E-Eirene!" Noelle was trembling as she called out for her, kneeling in front of Finral. Eirene stopped abruptly to stare down at a punctured body filled with blasts of holes. He was barely breathing, barely alive, but he was being lifted on a hoist, and currently being treated with the best medical expertise and healing magic. 

And then in a blink of an eye, she was transported elsewhere, another crystal sitting behind her, a confused looking Sekke on the ground, and Langris - 

Her breath hitched. He had a look in his eye she'd seen before, but not on him, or on a person for that matter. It didn't belong on his face and it ... scared her.

"Langris," she began, "What did you do? What's going on?!" She glanced at Sekke, "Will we need your Shooting Star again?"

"There's no need," Langris interjected, a coldness she'd never heard before, "All of you... All of them … You all are worthless." Some glamour of humanity seemed to fritter away from him, the air around him darkening in some thing that seemed a threat or a promise or both. 

Bile burned in Eirene’s throat. Angry tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Her voice came out thin and distant, " ... What are you... talking about?"

Langris’ head was bowed, shaking, forcing deep breaths and he was on the brink of spiraling. He flinched when she stalked closer, but she remained remarkably calm even though there was an edge of evil energy flickering across his skin.

“Calm down,” she reached out, but he didn’t spare her a glance.

“That fool of a brother… How dare he… He’s useless. How dare he stand on the same stage as me? I'll show them that I'm special. Me! I was chosen. I am the true Magic Knight…” His voice heated with anger, his mind delving into an emotional vortex of spirals.

“Langris, calm do -”

“How dare he make me use my Grimoire … There's nothing he can do that I can't! Nothing! He doesn't deserve to be part of the Vaude famil-"

Before he could finish, her hand cracked across his face, snapping it back with the force of the blow. He staggered backwards, clutching the red welt she had left behind.

"Get a grip!" Eirene yelled, shaking him by the shoulders, "Why would you say something so cruel?! How could you have done something so terrifying?!"

His dark eyes burned across the space between them and it felt like fire and heat. And Eirene wasn’t sure if it was beautiful or simply terrifying. He made no effort to struggle against her grip, so she let go.

From the side, Sekke backed away as far as his limbs could carry him. Why the hell was he here - with two insane looking Vice Captains? He shuddered, knowing if anyone even attempted to lay a finger on the Vice Captain of the Golden Dawn, they'd probably get a death sentence on the spot.

Instead of swaying from Langris’ outburst, Eirene just murmured, "Please tell me what's wrong.”

Langris laughed but it’s loud and evil and sarcastic. He gave her a pointed look, and his words were sharp. “Don’t act like you’re above it. You’re a Royal. You crave to be better than others. You crave strength and recognition like I do. If not, then don’t act like you understand.”

“Then help me understand.” Her reply was immediate.

"You won’t.”

Dark, static-like orbs glowed around his hands as he raised them in a combative stance. In response, her flames flickered around her fingertips. He raised his hand, and for a second her eyes widened, thinking he might aim for her when he turned on his heel. Coming their way was the opposing team, their crystal trailing not too far behind.

Attacks of contradicting magic spells burst through the air, steadily making their ways from one end of a team to the other. Dangerous cell bars of heated light. 

“How could you hurt Finral like that?!” Asta demanded forcefully as he advanced. He swung his sword and sliced through Langris’ magic, his cries roaring and fierce and resolute.

“Who cares about him!? He’s weak! He’s not a true Magic Knight! I won, which makes me one!” Langris countered, his tone riding on insanity and delirious indignance. 

"You Royals think you're all that!" Zora shouted, his cries so raw it would shake anyone to the core. "Bastards like you… Aren’t true Magic Knights!" 

"How dare you speak to me that way?! How dare _you_ stand on the same stage as me?!! I'll show you that _I_ was chosen! That _I'm_ special!" 

Eirene could hardly catch her breath between saving the crystal and making sure no one was gravely injured. Everything was becoming gut-wrenching. A calm, furious desperation so potent it almost choked her, her blood pumping loud and fast in her ears. 

"You don't even care about the people!" She heard Asta cry out, from the corner of her eyes, she saw him swing his sword relentlessly, "You were willing to sacrifice the people of the Kingdom!"

At the mention of the Kingdom, for a split second, she thought about the dizzying moment that had come over Langris and herself when they met the Elves. She was seeing and feeling it as if from far away, far outside her body. And now, there was the same nausea upturning in her stomach threatening to make her violently sick.

No. None of that mattered right now. 

She found it miraculous that Sekke had gotten back up on his feet when she asked, and even more when she managed to drag herself to where the main fight was taking place. She could see flashing bolts of pure energy escaping Zora’s magic circle as he amassed his energy and Mana into the one spell. His voice was drifting in and out of her ears,

“You are not… The Magic Knights my father dreamt of.”

And then the sharpness to Langris’ voice that held nothing but malice malice malice.

“You are… All no one of importance… Don’t you dare mess with me....”

Count one, two, three. Explosions of clashing magic and anti-magic in great waves of discordant and demented sounds. 

"Eirene! Watch out!" Mimosa said. 

"W-What the hell is that spell?!" She heard Sekke say in-between panicked gasps. But they all sounded so...

... Far away.

She looked up. 

A swirling storm of screaming silver. A crack as loud as any sky-born thunder, a slide of a great white sheet. It took less than a second for her to realise that Zora had successfully doubled Langris’ magic, even more dangerous than she had anticipated, and it was barreling towards them at alarming speed. “Shit -” It moved quicker than her eyes could follow, battering the trees and anything else that stood in its way.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she gritted with angry incredulity. All this dread. All this terror and pain and anger. 

“V-Vice Captain?... Lady Eireneola?” Sekke called out behind her, his voice a quivering mess. Shadows started to creep over her arms, spreading upwards to her face like dancing ribbons of dark flames, a long, forked tail sliding behind her back as dark wings shone on her back, spread out proudly. Horns protruding from her head, white, as ivory as elephant tusks. 

Eirene didn’t look back. The certainty she felt was potent, formidable confidence in what she was doing commanded enough to make her feel in control.

"Mana Zone: Corpus Solare."

She felt the warmth of her magic explode from her body, demanding for the entire universe to crumble into ashes before her, in endless deluges of heavy fire. In one, dragged second, under more light than the sun could ever shine, everything burned into chaos. Everything froze. A living wall of flames, the brilliant blue of Zora’s spell colliding with the roaring of Eirene’s red.

And then time stuttered to a start again.

The fiery, frenzied consumption that sent up sparks and ash had stopped, until the dying flames became glowing embers and nothing more. The wind slackened for a moment, as if unwilling to blow without her permission. 

Her eyes glazed over the people on the battlefield, feral and firm, golden specks of triumph in myriad shades of blue.

"You're wrong," she said. The explosion of her Mana had relented, but the flames around her still still grew hot, filled with wrath and fury. They refused to be contained, condemned to die into ashes. A tame fire? Never. 

Asta had brought enough time to morph into his black form, but his body sent him jolts of electricity he hadn't felt before. Yet, it was somehow familiar... Something poked through her flaming red hair. And his hand immediately flew to his head. A horn. Except hers was pure white, like it was made out of... Bone?... He blinked a few times, but when he finally focused on her again, it was gone. Had he just imagined it?

Mimosa gasped as the air reached her lungs. She hadn't even realised she was holding her breath. She turned a shaky head towards her crystal, already shattered into incorrigible pieces. Then at the other team's... At the exact same state. She wasn't sure if it was due to Langris' initial attack, or the sole power of that horrifying explosion of Eirene’s Mana that did so.

"Wrong?" Zora said. His brain was fogged up and his thoughts were going nowhere at all. What the hell just happened?

The slightest curve of a smile hinted at the edges of Eirene’s lips before she spoke, 

“I am a Royal. It's true. My family built the ground you stand on. They set this kingdom into motion. I know. I know things aren’t great, but we have a Wizard King who wants nothing but to change that. Isn’t that enough?” When Zora failed to respond, she answered her own question, “It has to be enough.”

He scoffed, but not with the same condescending atmosphere he held previously. It was laced with ripening understanding.

“And one more thing,” Eirene said.

“What?” Zora asked.

She exhaled deeply, although not as a sign of exhaustion of resignation. Of ease.

"I don't give a rat's ass about status. Never have, never will. I don’t need to prove anything to you. It’s entirely your choice if you want to believe me, but I do mean everything I’ve said.” And with that, she pressed three fingers to her chest. 

Zora blinked slowly, like his brain was trying to digest all she'd told him. Then he smirked. "Alright, Lady Royal."

Eirene smiled at that. Her head tilted at the sound of shuffling footsteps next to her. 

“Your ultimate move couldn’t even scratch us,” she heard Langris sneer derisively.

"And you," Eirene said coldly, shiveling her attention towards him. Around him was great rags of pure Mana, changing within the spectrum of black and violet and it was unbearably suffocating.

It had spiked tenfold, laced with hatred and imparted fear, his magic a ticking time bomb. She stepped towards him, pulled her arm back and punched him in the jaw. 

The impact confused his brain as it rapidly flew to the right, a red welt already rising on the skin. He stumbled backward, hand raised to the injury. 

Darkness was floating around him, shrouding his vision. He could see an unknown source blocking the light from his and he felt himself suffocating. Was it the heat, or the panic prickling his eyes and twisting his insides?

She moved closer, her expression softening, touching his skin lightly. There was no heat in her voice now, as if her heart beat so steadily, a stark contrast to what she had done previously. Though she was already awake, she opened her eyes as if from a deep sleep and smiled that same smile he had grown so familiarly accustomed to. Her voice tumbled out softly, "Are you okay?"

"Let go of me..." Something hot welled up in his chest, fierce and close, dense and thick as a humid summer night. It tasted like anger in his mouth but it hurt like loneliness in his chest.

“Oh, come on,” she said softly. She weaved past the arms he had put up in defence and she leaned and leaned until she was resting her head on his shoulder, her fingers trembling as she clutched onto his fabric on his back.

"You don't... understand. Let go of me!"

"I do!" She cried out. He stood in silence. The air between them was suspended, full of tension, hanging on the precipice of an explosion. She wanted to fall into it, wanted to light that fuse, wanted him to hold her tight, wanted to stay like this, all the time, wanted him to be okay.

"I can feel it! All this... hate and enmity welled up in your heart. It’s okay… I need you to trust that w-we can carry it together. S-So, please…” She let out a trembling breath. “Let me help you," She whispered, burying her head in his shoulders. His expression hardened, but his storm of uncontrollable Mana had come to a stop. "Whatever you do," she breathed heavily, "It'll be okay. You'll be forgiven. And if not by everyone else, then by me... Isn't that enough? Please... Please stop this madness."

"Let...G-..."

"I care about you. I mean it. And... I ..."

I love you.

"I... I won't walk away. I won’t ever walk away! I'll keep pulling you back no matter how many times you push me away! And even if that takes walking through the depths of hell again and again, then I will. I will until I burn myself up from the inside. Do you understand that?!" 

And then silence.

"...Let me save you."

She pulled back, expecting him to scowl or snap, but on the exhale, his eyebrows softened. But then, slowly, so slowly, his shoulders loosened up just a little, and Eirene allowed her hand to skate down the inside of Langris’ arm until she got to his hand, squeezing it once with reassurance. She let out a breath when he opened his hand up and took hers into his, keeping it. The mania in his eyes faded. The glee faded. The clouds started to part, allowing spotlights of light to filter through. 

Langris gritted his teeth. His insides were still in chaos. A mess. Something was bothering him. Something was hurting him. Something felt so wrong, so invalid but he couldn't tell what. He tried to pinpoint the cause for this unexplained pain, this unbearable burning - 

But as his mind shifted through thought after thought, his arms placed themselves where he knew they belonged. He felt her warmth envelop him, his fingers, his arms, his body, and he pulled her close like she was the only sane thing in this sea of insanity.


	16. Ratri vs. Eirene

"It's not working. Do you have any ideas, Vice Captain Eirene?" 

Eirene shook her head, mumbling an half-assed apology to Marx, who sighed solemnly while he flicked through his Grimoire.

They've been at this for hours now. Days. Her stomach squirmed. She watched the clock, and when the ticking got to her, she switched to the people present. Mereoleona and the others should be far outside Clover Kingdom by now. Risking their lives for everything. 

When Mereoleona had asked her to join the Royal Knights, Eirene had refused. She would be of no use if her thoughts kept drifting back to Langris. No use if she was distracted.

The Wizard King had knocked Langris out shortly after their fight at the Royal Knights Exam, whilst explaining his true intention behind the exam. What was it that he had said? To gauge out the traitor from the ranks?

Eirene glanced up at Langris, roped in the corner, covered in dry blood and dirt, his eyes half lidded. 

There was no way he was a traitor.

No.

It can't be true.

It's not true.

She refused to believe it.

A groan snapped her attention towards him. When she realised he was looking directly at her, she startled, and even more so when she noticed the strange yellow light around him, red markings etching themselves onto his skin, and his ears ... 

"Langris, what are you -"

She was cut short when she started to notice the feeling of tremors beneath her, the sound of distant explosions suddenly echoing through the underground building, slowly growing closer and closer. Some of the Mages started to shriek - similar glow surrounding their bodies and feral grins marring their faces. They were in the most literal sense... Glowing. Whilst this happened, some of the unaffected chose to hold their ground, desperately trying to figure out what was happening, others ran.

Mesmerised by the feral grace of their motions, she found herself unable to look away. The Mages stand not even the slightest chance as they desperately fought for their lives, their friends cutting them down effortlessly.

Then Eirene felt sick. Her stomach coiled uncomfortably and she could hear herself gasp from far away, trying to take in air that wouldn’t come, but somehow it didn’t feel terrible, or shattering. It was the contrary.. Warm, calming, like she was being put to sleep… Or something.

"What are you guys doing?!" She demanded, knocking out a few of them. "Hey, stop!" She threw herself at one of the Mages, writhing his arm away from another Mage - who looked normal and unglowing - and then _craaacakck_. She cursed under her breath, knowing she had broken someone's wrist. She pulled the Mage back, slamming him to the ground, and her eyes flashed with amusement, with challenge. "Next." They came after her and she proceeded to knock the rest of them out without compromising their lives. 

The Mage she had saved fled the scene before she could ask him if he knew what was happening. 

“Wait -”

Eirene faltered, her world turning fuzzy as she slumped to her knees. She blinked, open -mouthed and gauzy with mellowing understanding. Those marks. Those ears. Those…

“Aurelere,” Eirene sighed her name and the way it fell off her tongue sounded so familiar. Like she’d been calling her name for years and years. Her head felt light and her vision blurred, a crushing pain in her head. She clawed fingers at her scalp. It felt like someone had taken a knife to her skull. She let out a sharp breath, her words strangled, “Get out…” The rest of the world became detached, all she could concentrate on was the pain rooted deep in her head. 

She threw herself at a nearby wall, almost crying out in frustration. Panting and shuddering, she could feel everything and nothing at once folding into her, constricting her lungs until she was gasping with dizziness and an urge to vomit. She held her hand in her hands, trying to tear into her skull with hysteria.

"This body... Is already taken..." She heard herself say again through shuddering breaths. And then the darkness beckoned her, and she was back in that alternate universe, her heartbeat thundering in her chest, and a high pitched ringing in her ear. Face-to-face with Aurelere, fear clambered into Eirene’s mouth, spreading and coiling around her tongue and she shrunk away on instinct. 

“Don’t be afraid,” Aurelere reached out to clasp their hands together, “I can’t take your body. There’s already something else inside it.” She whimpered softly and the flowers in her hair shook off their petals upon her golden hands, “Y-You promised…” She looked on the brink of tears, “Please… Please, save him… My Ratri … Your Langris…” 

Eirene found herself promising again, because now she knew that Aurelere’s blood was her blood and Ratri's was Langris’.

And then Aurelere vanished, the dying embers of a smile still upon her face, and Eirene’s vision fuzzed back into place, black dots in her vision forming into the cold ground she sat upon.

“That’s what you’re trying to tell us…” Eirene gasped out as the information punched the breath from her, her mind squealing to a deafening stop. That meant…

Suddenly she found it hard to breathe again. Her eyes went wide and she clutched at the walls hard enough to break them, feeling the blood drain from her face. She rushed to him.

The noise shook Langris awake. He groaned again, his chest clenched as he tried to force his vision to focus and not tunnel.

"Eirene? What's going on? Why's your face..." He managed, and he wasn't quite sure if his vision had come back to normal because she looked like... 

An elf.

He recognised this person. That white hair, those marks, those ears, the thunderous Mana...

“...Aurelere?” He amended. The girl in question turned towards him and shook her head, burning off his binds in a flick of her wrist, and it wasn’t until then Langris realised he was glowing the same way she was. 

“No…? Eirene…?” Langris asked, somehow startled by the sound of his voice.

He clutched at her arm for support, his vision blurring with blotches of stars and colours. This was not good. He pinched himself, bit his tongue until it bled, anything to prevent himself from slipping in and out of consciousness. 

She let him hold on to her, and right now she wasn’t sure if he’d fought off Ratri, so she asked, “Are you alright?”

She was surprised when he laughed, finally straightening up and placed a gentle finger on her lips, “You underestimate me.”

The horror of it came crashing down on her at once. _This wasn't -_

She could feel it and the ache in her heart opened wide and she loosened her hold on him, falling onto the ground.

"What?" He asked as he knelt, running a finger tenderly against the sharp curves of her jaw. Then suddenly he was on top of her, his legs bracketing her body as she held herself up by the elbows. 

"W-What are you -"

"Aurelere," he crooned, caressing her face, "I've missed you."

At that, Eirene went very, very still. She swallowed against a weird feeling of the words, pressed with her back against the ground. 

He bent down and kissed her forehead. "Let us continue later. We should help our friends." He stood, offering her a hand. "And we should kill the King."

"Excuse me?!" She asked, stunned, then sat up a little, "Langris, are you out of your mind?"

“Humans die every day. And I gotta admit, I’m overflowing with Mana, so I just want to get my hands on some human flesh right now," he paused, frowning. "Wait... What did you say?"

Eirene swallowed. "Huh? What did I say when?"

“Langris?" The words rolled off his tongue like it was foreign.

His eyes narrowed at her. He stood up suddenly, retreating away from her. He gave him a look she couldn't decipher.

“You’re…”

His expression turned cold in an instant.

"Oh?" Even his voice changed, a dark silken murmur, "You're still calling for this human's name."

Small fragments of fear seeped into her veins as she realised her mistake. "You’re Ratri." She breathed out, and she couldn't stop the words from shaking.

He gave her a strange look before it completely froze over. And if looks could kill, she would be drowning in a pool of her own blood. “How dare you call me by name? You humans don’t deserve to do even that.”

“Because we met before! Don’t you remember?” Eirene sputtered uncertainly, afraid that that memory was just a figment of her imagination but she was desperate to know. “We met that day! I met you and Aurelere! Y-You… You told us that you wanted to be friends!”

Ratri only stared at her, wide-eyed, and said in a voice that exuded venom, “Human friends? Me and Aurelere?” His eyes glazed over her in disinterest and irritation. “Never.”

“But you -”

"I guess this means your resurrection failed. How sad," he clicked his tongue with an impatient dismissal of the words. He glanced at his fingertips, flicking and flexing his fingers, "Or maybe Patri chose the wrong girl. A Royal. The irony."

Eirene’s eyes examined Ratri’s expression thoroughly, searching and searching but she couldn’t find anything that reminded her of familiarity. 

“You’re not Langris,” she finally said, like she needed to hear it to actually believe it, because this was a situation she couldn’t ever have foreseen.

"And you're not my lover, Aurelere."

"I know, but-” 

"To think Patri wanted her to reincarnate in your body," he scoffed, his tone lacing with animosity. “We’re both pretty twisted, I guess. Oh well. Same difference. We both want to make humans suffer.”

“Stop…” Eirene pleaded, her voice fracturing, “Aurelere wouldn’t want you to do this… S-She told me. I swear it. A-And, this isn’t you. You don't want this.”

The sides of Ratri’s lips tugged upwards into a sinister smirk, a cool detachment in his eyes. "This isn't me? That's where you're wrong, foolish human. I've never felt more myself," he answered. “And don’t you ever say my, or Aurelere’s name again from that filthy mouth.”

Eirene swallowed, a sharp knot in her throat tightening at his response. Why did she feel so afraid?... So, so unbearably afraid? There’s a static inside her head, too much it’s all too much, and she clutches onto her life but her fingers grasped around nothing but air and she -

Ratri’s smile crumbled. “You all deserve to die.”

Without another word, he sprinted and landed behind her, but she pivoted and danced out of reach of his right hook - even as an array of spatial attacks spurted out next without warning. 

For a while, she matched him blow for blow, but there was a strange new ferocity in every movement. Then she made a mistake. A turn of the foot in the wrong direction, miscalculating his next move.

She lunged forward, her ankle making that twist and crack and she could've sworn the momentum might have broken it, but she forced herself to her feet regardless, her face twisting in pain as she begged him to come back. “... I’m not going to fight you,” she whispered, her whole body tensing when their eyes met and her fear threatened to grow out of control.

“Then die.”

The onslaught of relentless attacks he sent her way made her crumple to the floor, again and again, vision blotchy, thoughts blurring and indistinct. For a moment she didn’t have the mental capability to sit up, she just laid stunned on the ground. He leaned over her, chest heaving, knuckles bloodied and a deep scowl carved into his features. 

"You know, you humans... Deserve a fate worse than death."

Eirene managed a weak chuckle, shakily pushing herself off the ground, a trail of blood leaving her lips.

"Fate? Is it your fate to kill Aurelere?"

Ratri's hand shot out, and cold, cold fingers wrapped around Eirene's throat. "I told you not to say her name," he hissed, eyes drowned with ice and anger. “I’ll kill you.”

“There were… So many opportunities … Where you could have killed me,” Eirene whispered, and the tears in her eyes prickled because there was nothing in her system but fear right now and all she wanted was to be back in his arms again. Nothing was certain right now but her tears and this pain and she hated it so much but she forced herself to push through. “So I know… that Langris, … He’s still in there.”

Ratri kept his gaze impassive and tightened his grip. “I can kill you right now.”

"Come on. Fight... You told me... You told me you'd always protect me whenever I’m in trouble," she begged faintly, and for a second, his eyes flashed, his face lit with a grim smile and shattered eyes. But he raised a hand, cradling it an orb glowing an eerie blue-white. 

He tightened his grip further until her thin, desperate breaths became nothing at all, and panic filled her head as she began to struggle in earnest. He stared into her tear stained eyes and squeezed harder still, a feral smile tugging at the corners of his lips, purple blotches of spatial static bordering around them.

"A-And, s-see, I don..'t be...li-eve... in fate. You don't... either." Eirene whispered through strained breaths. "So p...lease... Give him back to me."

Just as spots start to swim across her vision and blurred, the inescapable pressure inexplicably disappears. 

There was a flash, in Langris' mind, of Christmas morning and snow.

.....

_Langris and Eirene stayed inside and played jenga. The former was not particularly good at this but he'd do it anyways because the latter loved it. Grimly determined, as if to stop would be an admission of defeat, incomprehensible. Langris hated losers. So he cannot be one._

_"I don’t think I can do anything else," he huffed, frowning faintly in displeasure. He bent his head down anyways, fingers rifling through one piece through another. There was a weight on his chest. A weight he'd always known was there. It’d press down so hard he’d worry it might come down on him so hard his ribs might crack under pressure, or cave in and send splinters into his heart, or maybe collapse his lungs and make him forget how to breathe._

_"Yes, you can," Eirene assured, and for some reason, he could only see her in fragments, like through stained glass windows or pieces of a mosaic. "You've waited until now. That excuse will not hold. I can help you, you know.” She raised her eyebrows at him as if her words had a hidden meaning. For a brief moment Langris did not understand this meaning. And then he did, and it was all horrible and wondrous at the same time._

_Langris dismissed it, because he wasn't weak. He refused to be weak. But right now brain was whispering to him -_ _not enough not enough not enough because he wasn't in his Golden Dawn uniform and that was everything that made him good and powerful and worthwhile._

_He could feel the colour bleeding from his life and his laughter right now was too loud to make up for that, too quick, too often._

_Perhaps Eirene wanted to be his friend because he was strong, so so strong, therefore he couldn’t afford to be weak. But somewhere deep inside a part of him told him that wasn’t true, because she wanted to be his friend even before she knew his status or his strength. And she always looked at him like there was a goodness in him that he couldn’t see, an intrinsic part of his soul. Like he was her favorite person, so she was always willing to sit and listen and do the most useless things with him._

_"I'll wait," she said lightly._

_He shifted his position. He finally pulled one out, and they all crumbled down, a hundred pieces of jenga and the snow pouring down on the windows._

_It started to hail._

_It felt like the world had stopped._

_..._

Langris cried out in pain. His stomach burned, heat pooling around it as he felt something sharp twist in him, scraping out his insides as he fought himself to regain consciousness. 

A blinding flash of pain and he grunted, clenching his eyes shut, as his consciousness was forced back behind the broken wall of his mind. His arm jerked, sending the blast into a wall.

"Huh... I ... missed?!" Langris could hear someone say. It was him. Had it come from him? ... Who... There were tears leaking from the corners of his eyes and the world was spinning with such agony - Why -

......

_And then suddenly he was back in the annals of his mind, but this time the sky plunged into an ominous darkness, but she was there with him. She was right next to him in the darkness and he was confused and overwhelmed and scared but he knows it will be okay because she’s there._

_"It's okay," she echoed his thoughts with a smile. He felt her fingers curling around his and they stepped out into the snow. She tilted her head to the vastness of the night sky, "Look."_

_He stared in awe at the blaze of magic that burst from her fingertips, the holy blast of the atramentous curtain of night sky as it erupted with stars, like scattered embers of a dying fire. He remembered the feeling of his heart being torn from his chest, watching as she let go of his hand. She was clearer now, and it started to feel like he could see her._

_She smiled up at him, and it hurt for some reason. Then she started to talk about the stars because she loved learning about constellations, and he swore if they ever get married, it would underneath the brightest constellations -_

_And then another flash and they were elsewhere._

_“I have to fight you now," he then found himself saying. She looked at him, a little surprised, but her eyes were fearless, and her smile was soft with resignation. She was older now, more mature. Beautiful. Hair like flames, eyes of the ocean. And then he knew that he needed her here, because his world would stop spinning in her absence. It would be colder. She was so clear to him now, because she’s been right in front of him all along._

_“I know,” she said. “It’s okay. Maybe I'll let you have the upper hand this time. What is that now, 100 - 20 in my favour?”_

_“… I don’t want to win,” he said fervently, “I love you._ _You'll die."_

_She merely hummed at that. Then she offered him a watery smile, and it was so pained._

_"You underestimate Vermillion women." She squeezed her hand tightly around him, who slowly began to close his fingers around the width of her palm. "Do you trust me?"_

_He felt his eyes start to water. It didn't hurt anymore. The weight on his chest was gone. The fear pounding on his heart had lifted._

_And when his thoughts finally returned to him, he finally exhaled, quietly, gently. She smiled at him, and again he was reminded that the world was still spinning, and the stars were still in the sky, and that he hadn’t crumbled into ashes._

_"I do."_


	17. I Will Save You

_The bronze glow of the dipping sun spilled its spindly limbs across the grasslands. Laced with gold and rose threads, the clouds drifted by, slowly sailing across the vast expanse above._

_It's five thirty in the morning and Eirene thought that it would be nice to be a cloud because it weighed a million pounds but it still soared through the sky fearlessly with vivid colours and pretty fragments._

_She reached out towards the sky. She wondered if the clouds could hear her even though she didn’t speak aloud. They held many secrets. That’s what she’d read once. Mayhap if she stayed long enough, the clouds might tell her a secret or two; like where she was and she felt an overwhelming sense of entrapment and lastly, why it felt so beautiful and painful at the same time. Happiness came with pain, maybe._

_Although, this world felt safe from the unpleasantness of the waking world and all that it contained. Perhaps it was better here._

_But that was all she could remember._

_Was she ever really here? She wondered. The only things she could remember was her name and her magic. She couldn’t be in hell, could she?_

_No, she denied the possibility, it was too peaceful. It didn’t sit right with her. And yet wanting to ponder more and more on the hows and the whys, her brain simply refused to allow it, block off her attention span to focus on the details of the world around her._

_She eventually picked herself up, because she needed to be somewhere but she couldn’t remember. It's raining and the water hurt when it pelted against her skin, like acid and her face was wet with warm blood and freezing tears and she wasn't sure how they got there._

_The world was raining poison acid and it made her face light with a terrible sort of fervour. Why? She shivered as she tried to pull the strongest cloak of flames from her Grimoire. It ought to keep her well protected from the cold, she thought, but all that she managed to summon was a thin layer of Mana skin. It didn’t help._

_She swallowed thickly, feeling a little like she was burning too, caught like a scrap of paper that was now falling into crumpled pieces._

_The scrunching of feet against snow made Eirene’s head turn. She came face to face with a boy and she was met with a new thought - a memory this time, shoved aside her insistent attempts at peace._

_“Who are you?”_

……….

“Eirene," Langris woke with a start, a dying scream on his lips. He was breathing hard, greedily swallowing gulps of air. He blinked up to find a canvas ceiling, the glow of moonlight making everything feel hazy and dreamlike. The pain that struck him when he moved, though, was far from dreamy. He could still feel the immense Mana circulating throughout his body, the remnants of Ratri left behind…

His eyes scanned his surroundings. "Eire-" He didn't get the chance to finish. His eyes fell on the Crimson Lion Kings coat. The matted hair caked with sweat and blood. The pain contorting her face. 

“Eirene…?” 

His heart dropped in his chest. He raced to her, bursting past the broken debris with panic in his heart. This wasn't supposed to happen, yet he was here, in a situation that had been completely unfathomable. He veered around and darted to her, crashing to his knees.

He called for her again but she jerked away from him and shook her head desperately. A blast of flames crackled out from her palms spiraling onto a nearby wall. He let them crumble around him, pieces of sharp nails and heavy ash clinging onto his skin and wounds.

“G-Get away from me…” She said, her voice so violently distorted. 

He shook his head and he pressed forward without fear, barely even looking at the crimson jumping hungrily between her fingertips.

“N-No, please,” Eirene stumbled back, “Stay back. I … Th-The demon… I think… I… can’t...” 

“Eirene, you need to fight it,” he said. He didn’t stop.

Her power lashed out again, and the ground beneath her shook and the power of everything was between her palms. It buzzed beneath her tongue, bounced between her ribs, blazed in her eyes. It hurt.

“Please,” she whispered, hell fire flaring at her fingertips. 

She could feel it. Like she was going to pass out any second. So heavy and dense and somehow empty at the same time, like a void itself was pressing down on her.

Something she couldn’t put a name to, something that made her ache, made her throat feel tight and her eyes felt hot. And then she was back in her mind, picking up where she left off.

…..

_“I know you,” she said, her voice an echo._

_His name is Langris, she thought, and immediately realised how his name quickened her heart and saddened her at the same time, all her emotions coming back in one crashing wave. She reminisced with a mixture of horror and sorrow as this reminded her of her state after the Spade Kingdom.Why hadn’t she recognized him earlier? It felt like her senses were too dulled to grasp the intensity of remembrance._

_“Hey, -” She cut off abruptly when she realised he was unsmiling, nearly devoid of all emotion. Looking with more attention, Eirene realised that this face too had some sadness in it. Around the eyes; it was harder to detect but it was there._

_For a moment, Eirene worried that he would burst suddenly into a stream of accusations, but he only said, “You know you mustn’t be here,” while he purred himself in her way._

_Eirene swallowed back her trepidation and stepped forward._

_"Did I do it?” She asked before she could process the words, her voice thick and gravelly, her breathing uneven. “Did I save you?”_

_“Of course you did.” Langris nodded, pain and warmth evident in his eyes now. What an odd mixture it was. “Stop saving other people for once and focus on yourself.”_

_“But you’re alone so I should stay,” Eirene insisted, “... Why wouldn't I stay? It’s cold, so it’s better if we’re together.”_

_Langris shook his head. “No, you mustn't. I’m not real. This is your mind, Eirene. Outside, there are people waiting for you. Family.”_

_Eirene could already feel the telltale arrival of tears._

_“But… You’re also my family.”_

_“Then let me save you.”_

…..

“Langris!” Eirene cried out. She staggered forward as reality enveloped her vision once more, her mind swirling, her breaths shallow.

She choked on air. Ragged, wheezing breaths-something’s wrong in the lungs-and then she saw the bright red splash of blood against his skin. Langris' blood? Hers?... Her head was throbbing, the world around her swimming in and out of focus and there was so much blood so much blood so much blood everywhere and agony ripping through her chest—

“Eirene, wake up. You need to listen to me. Hey. Hey, look at me.”

Langris caught hold of her hands before she fell and it was hot. So hot, and he tried his hardest to stop his face from scrunching up. Because the pain wasn’t sharp like a needle point or a knife, but it burned around his innards better than boiling water. 

Everything felt scolded, and move not, he was in more pain that he could ever imagined was possible. He prayed for his adrenaline to kick in, for his thoughts to cool him down in ways nothing else would.

“No! Let go. Please.” She attempted to jerk her hand back but he held on. He held on. He could feel the skin of his palms peeling away, blistering and bleeding out. He held on.

“I’m alright, see,” he said, but his bones felt like god damn glass. It hurt. It hurt. It _hurt_.

A sob tore through her lips and she shook her head. “You’re hurting. Y-You’re hurting. I… I’m hurting you, aren’t I? I… I’m - I’m so sorry. I’m s- so sorry, Langris.”

He shook his head firmly, trying to bite back the hints of pain that tried to show. “I’m not. I promise. Listen to me, okay? Listen,” he searched her expression fervently, “You’re stronger than that demon. I know you are. _You_ know you are.”

“It hurts,” she choked out.

“I know,” he said, and the expression on her face hurt him more than anything else right now, “But you need to fight. You have family waiting for you.”

“Family…” She managed to whisper. But she felt so tired. So overwhelmed and so uncertain and so scared. Like her mind was everywhere, trying to reel in on the overstimulation of everything that had happened up until this point. 

He swallowed the painful knot of his pride, felt the burn of tears behind his eyes. “And you… You’re my family. You said that yourself. So I’m not leaving okay?” He said, and it wasn’t a question. It was a declaration.

She tried to laugh, because she was so happy, so so so happy but it came out like a choked sob because she wasn’t in control, “Then go. Please leave. You’re going to burn. I don't ... I don't want you to die. ... P-... Please.”

Her knees buckled beneath her and he took her weight easily - cradling her close, like his arms really were enough to contain a supernova. His heart was stampeding in his ears and he held his ground against the magic that she was emitting because there were glass shards in his lungs and he _couldn’t breathe_. The words came out of his mouth with a tormented cry, 

“Eirene, just shut up okay? I love you.”

He ducked to meet her eyes, and she froze, her eyes glassy and lined with tears.

“You idiot, I love you. I love you so _god damn_ much.” His face was pleading, his voice open, dripping with the promise of complete honesty and it was meant for her, only her.

The tears came quick, sliding over the curves of her cheeks, but it was relief that filled her mouth, filled her eyes and spilled over. She almost dropped to her knees at the impact of it because the weight of it was heavy. Crushing. And it almost felt like she couldn’t breathe, in the best way possible.

“You… Love me?” 

It felt like she was hallucinating, she had to be, because those were the Langris' eyes looking down at her, that was Langris' voice, filled with concern and warmth, so so much warmth.

He pressed her closer, his lips to her brow and it was like all the fire in her gave a pleased hum before it rushed into him. And this time, it didn’t sear or shock or hurt him. It made him so warm. So impossibly warm.

“I’m sorry it took me so long. I’m sorry.” Tears blurred his vision again and he gritted his teeth. “But I’m saying it now. I love you. _I love you_.” 

He raised a shaky hand to his face in disbelief, feeling the wetness on his cheeks. His next words were choked on a gasp, “You can’t do this. You out of all people… You just _can't._ ”

Langris never cried over bad luck, he rarely lost his mind when things went awry, and he always found ways to take care of himself or whatever situation he’d gotten himself into. He had seen and suffered loss all his life.

He refused to let this be a loss.

He refused it.

If he had to lose something, please don’t let it be this. Please no. Please. Please. _Please._

He sucked in a sharp breath when a torrent of wind and flame struck him, but he still didn’t burn. The air was all but writhing around them, shadows and hell fire flames shuddering and twitching as though alive, malicious whispers seeming to echo from nowhere and everywhere all at once.

And then it happened again.

There was a pulsing light that flickered over them and Eirene wasn’t there anymore, wasn’t in Langris’ arms. She realised she was back to the depths of her mind and it happened so fast -- she was so confused. 

.....

_The skies had darkened, their brilliant colours diminishing into a shade of black and the clouds turned red and crimson like blood._

_Panic set in. She wished she could do something more than choke on her own breath, but the void before her and the blackness at her back was all encompassing. Why… Why was she so -_

_**Weak**? A voice in her head offered. And whatever it was in her mind finally presented itself. Eirene seized up as the colour drained from her face. It hung from the skies, dropping like its body was too heavy for the distorted limbs that kept it there - claw tipped protrusions fastening to the trees as branches and leaves fell from above. _

_It was unlike anything she’d imagined ; lanky and painstakingly humanoid, even as its neck folded back on itself with a grotesque display of piercing eyes and teeth._

_It was far from human though._

_**Weak** , it said. **You don’t need to remember. It was much better when you didn’t know anything. It doesn’t matter anymore. None of it matters. Nothing. Just stay in here and abide by my rules.**_

_“Maybe you’re right,” she murmured._

_**Good** , it replied, its expression morphing into a smile full of sharp teeth that absolutely screamed danger. **Let me tell you something. My brothers and sisters will invade your Kingdom. Let me take control. Once I kill those humans precious to you, you won't have to bear the guilt or the repercussions.**_

_“T-They are?” Eirene whispered, “I...I - “_

_“Don’t you dare,” a different voice countered, and it sounded so familiar in her heart but not in her head. It sounded like a woman. A woman she’s known her whole life, someone undefeatable, unbreakable, indestructible. She could see her in blurs._

_A woman with red hair and sharp claws, with a will harder than steel and heart purer than gold._

_"Don't you dare," she repeated, her voice resonating throughout the entirety of this space, "Have you forgotten? Vulnerability does not equal to weakness. Dry your tears and try again." She faced the demon and blasted through its entirety with her flames._

_Next to the woman was a man with the same coloured hair, a man with wisdom deeper than the ocean and his mind tougher than diamonds even in the face of despair._

_“I won’t allow you to succumb to darkness,” he said, and the darkness around them alighted with gold and silver and it was beautiful._

_Approaching was a boy who looked exactly like the former two. A boy who yelled like a brother and encouraged like a rival, with the wonder of a child and the courage of Hercules._

_She could hear him. He lit up the ground he stood on, paving a way for her._

_**Forget about them** , the demon spoke, but it was dissipating. Dissipating slowly, but not before it staked another claim on her._

_“Mereo… Fuego. Leo…” Eirene murmured. She reached for them but tripped on something, her knees hitting the ground so hard she saw stars. She let herself fall on all fours, her fingers clutching around the bumpy field of snow. It felt like she was sinking against it._

_“Let me go,” she gritted through her tears, shaking and shaking and shaking. “I don’t… belong here.” And the ground around her ablaze with dark flames._

_There came a snort from beside her and then -_

_“Huh? Why is a royal kneeling?”_

_His voice drowned out the noise of her thoughts._

_Eirene tilted her head up to look at him._

_She bit her lip and smeared the tears across her cheeks, trying to erase them only for them to be replaced by more. There wasn’t a taint of pity in his eyes. And she knew this was because he allowed himself to be vulnerable around her because even though it made him feel cold, she's fire and she kept people warm. His heart may be more complex than a labyrinth and his moral compass may be misaligned but his own fears but he was her best friend. Always._

_“Solid…?” She breathed out, tears slipping faster down her face. It was unmistakable. A royal with a prideful heart and silver tongue._

_A woman then crouched down beside her. A woman with blatant confidence and long talons, fierce enough to tear apart the souls of those who oppose her and those she believes in. She was looking at her like she was the embodiment of strength and Eirene had never felt so disgusted by her own weakness._

_“Eirene, your pride is on the line.”_

_“N-Nebra…”_

_And then suddenly there was a hand in front of her. It glowed with the promise of safety._

_“Come on.”_

_She gazed up at him, because there were galaxies in his eyes and because he could destroy the moon for all she cared and she would still love him._

_He tells her that he loves her and will burn for her because she is his true north and the fate he has chosen._

_And so when he tells her to keep moving, to go forward because she is not weak, she believes him. He tells her that it’s time to go home. She takes his hand. And surrounded by hell fire flames and spatial magic powerful enough to create earthquakes and tsunamis, they marched on. Out of the annulled depths of her mind._

_...._

"Langris..." Eirene sobbed. Her mind was dangerously close to railing out of control and she didn't dare open her eyes because she didn't want to go back. Not where that demon was. Not there. Not ever. But there was warmth that enveloped her and as if that managed to destroy her hesitation, she opened her eyes slowly to meet his gaze. Her bottom lip quivered and her face twisted with a flood of emotions. Relief, pain, hurt, _guilt_. 

“Let me save you.” Langris’ breath caught, hitching on what is dangerously close to a sob. The finishing blow of whatever pride he had left. 

Eirene found herself welling with regret and self-directed frustration, her knees wobbling again. She dug her nails into her palms - hard - as if that would somehow keep her upright, keep her from drifting out of consciousness again. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, and it sounded so breakable, “I’m sorry. I-... I’m sorry, Langris. I"m sorry.”

Langris leaned forward and then Eirene - the entire world came screeching to a halt as his forehead found hers, their noses nearly bumping together. “I know,” he said. He moved his head then, sliding his face up so that he could press his lips to her forehead. “You won’t burn,” he mumbled against her skin, “I promise. I promise you won’t.” And then he remembered that day she set their pinkies on fire and this was exactly like that. 

“And if you do, then I’ll burn with you.”

It almost felt like he was absorbing the entirety of her chaos, and Eirene stumbled, but she felt empty now, depleted, light.

And she knew.

She knew there was no way she couldn’t have been in love with him. It was irrevocable, a simple fact. The sun is hot. The snow is cold. Eirene loves Langris. As simple as it was, it was also massive. Calm. Constant. Alive. The biggest thing in the universe - the sort of love that would follow her, death after death, life after life, forever and always because it was a supernova. It was the moon. The sun. The entire goddamn universe and all the parallels after parallels after parallels.

Her horns retreated, the shadows on her skin uncoiling and unraveling, her tail disintegrating into wisps of smoke. A beast burst forth of her body with a shriek, the tips of its fiery wings reaching to the furthest edges of the vast chamber; it circled around her twice, drowning the entire place in blazing heat, before slowing down and shedding into flames as it landed. 

A cosmic polychromatic canvas. A beginning of a new era.


	18. Permission

His fate ran through his veins, the origin of his bloodline determined the course of his entire life from the moment he took his very first breath. Fate wasn't a small matter, but his mother loved to pretend fate was the most beautiful thing, and as Langris grew older, he found he didn't agree on the slightest. In fact, he found that he had a somewhat personal vendetta against it. If fate was going to deprive him of freedom until the end of his life, then he was more than ready to take fate into his own hands. 

Langris willed his feet to keep moving forward. Despite the cries of desperation from his mother. Despite the shouts of insolence by his father. He was not marrying Finesse. They'll have to accept it. 

"If I am to be the next Vaude heir, I will choose my own bride," he said once more with a note of finality, a repeat of the words he had said to his parents just moments ago. 

And he left. He didn't look back.

He internally cringed upon thinking about what was going on inside the Vaude Residence at this very moment. His mother was probably in hysterics right now, he was the person she least expected to pull a stunt like this. 

And of course there was the question of whether he really was going to be the next Vaude heir. But that mattered least to him right now, and all he could focus on was the massive palace doors that he remembered swinging open many times as a kid, greeted by a familiarly brilliant smile - He halted, trying to calm himself as he swung them open now. 

He was going to do this... Or die trying, at least.

"Oh? Vice Captain of the Golden Dawn!" Leopold was the first to greet him. “What brings you to our den?”

“Well…” Langris trailed off.

It’s bewilderingly bizarre, the sight before him. It defied the principles of physics, of royalty, and frankly, Langris was just a tiny bit terrified of the sight of the woman who stood confidently, barely even splashed by the cascade of blasts from her brothers pouring directly over her head. Said brothers, mostly the younger one, were covered in sweat and spark and smolder yet they continued to battle.

Gray smoke wafted through the room, an acrid smell along with it. Langris coughed and his eyes began to water.

"Could I have a moment of your time?" He said, but he could barely even hear himself through the ground shaking vibrations through the floors. His eyes widened. Was this really what he would be legally binding himself into? 

Mereoleona's head snapped towards him, a waterfall of red hair tumbling at her sides as she yelled, her voice cutting through chaos itself, "Fools! We have a guest!"

When her brothers didn't bat an eyelash at her, a low beastly growl erupted from her throat and she flung a jet of red whirls past Fuegoleon, past Leopold and the wall behind them crumbled; glass and brick and heavy pieces of metal and gold fell to the ground, smashing the cobblestone ground on the palace.

"Did you not hear what I said?!" She demanded.

"Sorry, Aneue," Leopold grinned apologetically. Still panting, he wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead before slumping down on a nearby table. Fuegoleon followed suit, blinked when he saw Langris, and nodded at him in acknowledgement. He took a seat next to his younger brother. Mereoleona stood her ground, crossing her arms over her chest. She raised a brow, a sign he had her attention. "So? Spit it out. Why have you come to the residence?"

"So..." Langris began, his heart so goddamn loud in his chest that he could barely hear himself. How on earth was he to breach the topic of betrothal to her siblings without sounding like a nonsensical idiot? 

He resisted the urge to comb his fingers through his hair or his coat, hoping that he had made himself presentable enough. Then he started to skim through all the memories of his childhood. Had he ever been particularly nasty towards Eirene? Had he ever hurt her in any way that would make him seem less promising? Although he knew nothing would change even if he did contemplate the matter over the course of his whole life.

"What?" Mereoleona snarled, slamming the lid on his inner turmoil.

Fuegoleon's lips curled ever-so-slightly upwards, but he had kept himself seated in his chair, pretending to be oblivious.

"I like her," Langris said eventually, his voice coming out nervous yet-matter-of-fact, wavering yet so sure.

"Y-You what?!" The words slipped out of Leopold's tongue before he could even think, his voice going up an octave.

Langris stared at them unflinchingly, although he was certain that he couldn’t mask the undisguised anticipation written so well across his face.

"I like - No... I... love ... Her." His heart just about stopped as soon as those words left his lips.

Mereoleona didn't bat an eyelash. She narrowed her eyes at him and cracked her knuckles, "Do you now?" A challenge and a threat at the same time.

"You say you love her?" Fuegoleon asked. He finally stood, his steps echoing through the empty banquet hall. He pointed his finger at Langris, a critical stare in his eyes, "Why have you waited ten years to realise so?"

Because growing up, he’d always thought love was only a form of recognition he deserved only if he was strong. His parents made sure to drill that into him. But that was no excuse.

"Yeah! You've always loved my sister, haven't you?! I knew it! I could feel the passion from a mile away!" Leopold chimed in, releasing howling laughter. Triumphant smiling and boisterous laughter at his own correct prediction. “I knew it. I mean of course, my Aneue is amazing!”

 _Amazing barely grazed her surface,_ he wanted to say, but he wouldn’t.

He wouldn’t tell them that the voice of conscience in his head sounded like her, because her voice resonated with him on a level that was outright ridiculous. It could be a murmur through the wall and he’d still hear it.

He wouldn’t tell them that he just wanted to be everything she needed, and everything she didn't have and his heart ached in his chest because he cared about her so much that his mouth tasted like her name.

He wouldn’t ever say that.

Not out loud.

He would not.

He was sure though, that these feelings were clear before their eyes.

And so he continued undaunted, "And I also wanted to say, I'm sorry, for -" 

"Sorry?" Mereoleona’s incredulous response came.

"Why exactly... Are you sorry?" Fuegoleon asked slowly, looking at him almost suspiciously.

"I could have killed her if Ratr- … If the elf took full control," he said, and he felt something inside him coil in disgust and anger at those words. 

"You stopped her from succumbing into her worst fear," Fuegoleon corrected.

"Twice," Leopold added, referring to the first Eye of the Midnight Sun attack.

"And killed her?" Mereoleona laughed humorlessly, "You underestimate Vermillion women."

Langris noted the similarity between Vermillion sisters. He distinctly remembered Eirene uttering those exact words. It wasn’t the first time he noticed this, but it was the first time he realised it went beyond the expression upon their faces or the general attributes of House Vermillion that had been passed on. It was the same obstinacy and insistence, though Eirene’s was softened somewhat in comparison to her elder sister.

"Is that all you’re apologizing for? Is that all you've come here for?" Mereoleona prompted, raising an eyebrow in askance.

Fuegoleon allowed his curiosity to wash over him. He gestured grandly in front of him in an ‘after you’ motion. “Go ahead. What’s on your mind?”

Langris swallowed any sort of pride he might have nurtured beforehand and his lips tilted into a slow smile, and he made sure this one reached his eyes. It was a little grim and sharp but he was trying his best.

"I wanted to apologize because I haven't been my best the past few months. Years? Whatever. It's no excuse. I'm not proud of myself, and I am going to be better. Because … " He trailed off, leaving only a suggestion between them and the vestiges of a challenge.

“I want to make her happy.”

Leopold blinked. It was weird seeing Langris like this. He was never very close to him, but from what he's heard and from what he's seen, he’d always assumed the Vice Captain had frankly disturbing amount of confidence. Suffocatingly so, some might say. 

This was vastly different. There was no untimely display of nervousness, but he was speaking with firm conviction. His words were genuine.

Leopold glanced at his siblings, and from the looks on their faces, he could see that they had predicted what was about to unfold, leaving him alone in a jumbled mess of confusion. 

“Why are you saying this?” Leopold frowned, but it wasn’t to condescend, rather, he was simply curious, “Are you hoping to marry my Aneue or something?”

“I am.”

They all fell into a spell of silence. 

A moment of confusion ensued in Leopold’s eyes. “What?” He gaped openly now, even though he had no intention of staying quiet at the start. His thoughts were still muddled, and he couldn't believe his sister would be the first to get married. He laughed then, a little shaky, but genuinely, "Dude, what the hell."

Fuegoleon was calm, even smiling a little, and leaned back in his seat through somehow continuing to hold his air of dignity. Mereoleona appeared calm but her eyes darkened just slightly. She marched up to him, slowly but with purpose, hands flat on the table before him and looked him in the eyes _._

Langris willed himself not to back away. It was a frightening thing, looking into the eyes of this absolutely terrifying woman, one who had lived with dangerous beasts, one who was the uncrowned undefeated queen, one who had practically raised the girl he wanted to marry. 

“Alright,” Mereoleona’s voice broke through the lull of silence. She burst out laughing then, magic crackling and flickering around her, her veins glowing around with it. 

Her movement quickened to such an intensity that Langris almost expected her to slip or fall. Neither occured, instead a sharp smell of something burning and the feeling of every hair on his body standing rippled from the center.

"Woah, woah, woah, Aneue, stop!" Leopold cried.

Langris' eyes widened. A whoosh of air, and only a bare heartbeat before a massive burst of fire struck past his neck, just grazing his ears, striking the vases and walls behind him. 

“Caldius Brachium!" Bursts of fire shot out of her punches, hundreds of massive flame bombs. They pelted down onto him - each hot enough to melt ice and strong enough to pierce metal.

Langris leaped back, whipping his palms out where spatial magic radiated, and with a lunge he hurled glowing orbs at Mereoleona's bursts of flames, who seemed barely taken aback by the charge. His wounds have mostly healed at his point, but he could feel the crackling and hissing swirls of pain seeping from them when he threw his own trail of magic.

With a loud bang and blinding flash, their collision of magic exploded across the room, splattering remains of what used to be ostentatiously detailed pillars and embroidered silk sofas across the floor.

Mereoleona seemed pleased with his on-his-feet defence, and she didn’t bother hiding that fact from her smirk. Turning slightly, the flames in her hands dissipated and she inched closer to where Langris was standing.

"You know, when I first met you, I immediately thought Eirene was entirely out of your league,” she spoke. She looked as though she couldn’t decide whether she was pissed or absolutely gobsmacked.

Langris felt offended, but he didn't dare voice his concern. In fact, he could barely do anything now that the woman was leaning so close to him. 

"You seemed far too arrogant. Too prideful for your own good. Far too uninteresting to be any proper match for her," she continued, undisturbed in the least.

"A-Aneue!" Leopold protested, only to be cut short when Mereoleona held up her palm. Even Fuegoleon tensed a fraction in his seat.

Much to everyone’s surprise, Mereoleona’s hard stare softened into an almost sisterly look. 

"But you’ve saved my fool of a sister. Twice. There's more to you than your facade after all, Vaude boy."

Hearing his name on the woman’s tongue made him feel a little accomplished, somewhat, although it wasn’t exactly his name. His eyes widened, just barely, just enough to give away that he was surprised. He peered up at her, spine straightening. She looked like she was about to say something else, but he would not attempt to pry an answer for her for fear of finding himself a limb or two short.

"Prove your loyalty," Mereoleona finally said, with an expression that is no less enigmatic than one would expect of her.

Langris’ lips tugged upwards into the slightest of smiles, though he’s no less intense for the moment of levity, “I can. I will.”

Mereoleona crossed her arms over her chest, amusement flickering in her eyes, "And how would you do that?"

"However I can," he swore. He turned towards all three siblings, "However you want me to."

She was relentless. "And if we wanted your head?"

“Then you may have it.”

Stunned silence followed the delivery.

"Sister, give the poor boy an answer," Fuegoleon spoke, after what must have been a few heartbeats of silence. "He looks like he's about to pass out any moment."

Mereoleona's eyes flickered towards Langris again. Straightening his spine, he offered her a steady gaze. Her ferocity quietened and her eyes became more focused than they’ve ever been, piercing through him and pinning him solidly to where he stood.

She chuckled, reaching over, clasping his head, "Alright, boy. You have my permission." She released her grip on him but then her voice shifted, suddenly sounding like the sharp ends of a razor, "If you become a burden to her, I might just kill you."

"Consider my permission granted as well," Fuegoleon calmly cut in before Mereoleona could spew out more threats. 

"And mine!" Leopold's hand shot towards the sky, "You better make my Aneue happy, you got it?!" Then he stomped his way towards Langris, patting him on the shoulder, "Guess you're my brother-in-law soon. I might start calling you Aniue, too. Let's fight every single day, and get stronger! Let's be rivals!" 

"Leo," Fuegoleon tapped him on the shoulder, before stepping in front of Langris himself. The smallest twitch of a smile on his lips, he placed a hand on Langris' head, warm, and with no ill intent, "Welcome to the family." 

"Thank you." Langris pressed three fingers to his chest. He looked - not cheerful persay - Langris rarely looked cheerful - but hale, and strong and alive. "I will give her everything."

“That’s not enough!” Mereoleona thundered, “Give her everything and more!”

“Everything and more,” Langris found himself echoing, his voice battle-hard and firmly fixed. But it did not sound like a recitation or a salutation at all. The sincerity was absolute.

Amusement crinkled around the corner of Mereoleona’s eyes under the slant of her thick eyebrows, and then a smile broke across her face.

“Good.”


	19. Thank You

Eirene shot up from the bed in a cold sweat with a gasp and a sob. Her eyes were wild, she was sure she’d been somewhere else just a moment ago. 

She breathed heavily, trying to regain herself as she took in her dark surroundings. She wasn’t at the battle field anymore, she wasn’t at war, and she was safe and sound at home. Everything was all right. Langris was all right. She gasped softly as she thought of him, unconsciously reaching out to the other side of the bed.

To her surprise, there he was, on a chair beside her with his head slumped onto the bed. He was sleeping peacefully. Langris. 

He was okay, she thought with a small smile, squeezing his hand gently. And he was Langris. Not Ratri, or anyone else. Langris.

She was starting to drift back to sleep, grateful for the comfort he could give her without even trying. But then his eyes snapped open and he jolted up. 

“Hi,” she said, her voice fracturing and her smile wobbly.

Langris didn’t even pause, expression a total blur, as he ripped off the blanket on his lap and shot to his feet, hands curling around her back and pressing her up against his chest. She laughed softly, but it was more like a tremble in his shoulders, “Hi.”

“You’re alive. You’re alive. You’re alive,” he whispered, repeating the revelation like a prayer, a lifeline. “Why did you do that to save me? Don’t… God. Don’t do that again.”

His chest heaved with exertion, face buried into the crook of her neck. He tightened his arms around her and he couldn’t bring himself to move. He doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to let go anymore.

“Don’t do that again. Don’t leave again,” he said softly. Eirene had never heard him so soft and so vulnerable and it made her heart ache.

“I won’t,” she promised. “I'm sorry.”

He pulled away reluctantly, and all he wants to do is look at her forever and just be with her, just the two of them. He’d thought of the plans he’d made while he sat by her bedside. Like, asking her a very top secret, very important question. 

Langris scooted into the bed, and his knees bumped against Eirene’s as he pulled the blankets up over their hips and laid down on his side facing her. And he couldn’t stop looking at her, blinking slow. 

She shifted so that she was on her side too, and she melted into him, curling into him impossibly closer. Her nose and mouth settled against his shoulder and she tilted her head up to offer him a half smile. And Langris pulled her close, and this right here, he thought, was the only thing he’s ever going to need out of life.

He wondered if it would be good to call for her siblings but she made a soft noise, almost like a protest, like his thoughts were transparent to her.

“Not yet,” she whispered, meeting his gaze almost shyly.

Langris didn’t ask why. He breathed out slowly, so still that he could be a statue. He didn’t want to move. What if this was a dream? One wrong twitch of his muscle and all of this would fall apart or disappear.

“Do you love me?” She asked, and the lack of hesitation in her eyes made his breath hitch. 

“Of course I do. I love you.” There was no hesitation in his voice.

And she rested her forehead on his, fingers fiercely curling into his shirt before pulling him into a warm kiss. And she kissed him like she’d never get another chance and her hands grasped harder at him and she shuddered and stuttered out a tiny little, “I love you too,” as he backed her into the bed for better leverage so he was on top of her.

He crowded up against her like he couldn’t get close enough, hands demanding, mouth confident and devouring - impulsive and reckless and so full of desire that she could feel it in every point of contact between them. And to Langris, all that mattered now was that he finally got to whisper i love you, i love you, i love you into Eirene’s skin because he did, god, he loved her so much.

And then he pulled away because he remembered that just a few days he had asked for permission to request her hand in marriage, though, he thought, perhaps right now wasn’t the time or place. 

Eirene blinked away the tears that were threatening to spill. “I’m sorry.” 

Langris shook his head slowly. “Sorry? Stop it. What the hell are you sorry for?”

She swallowed. “For almost destroying you… And me… And possibly the kingdom. For almost giving in to that demon. Just… For being a lot.”

A pause and then, “Eirene, you were always a lot.”

“What?”

“You’ve always been big and loud and a lot,” Langris reiterated solidly and the way he said it made it sound like a good thing. Like a thing that he loved about her. “Don’t be sorry.”

“Well then, thank you,” she amended in a whisper. “Thank you for saving me.” She looked up at him through glassy eyes, tears falling freely.

“You need to take care of yourself too. I know you want to save everyone because you want to be good, but it’s also extremely stupid,” Langris said bluntly, but his voice wasn’t reprimanding, it was only full of concern and maybe a bit of frustration. 

“But you did the same,” she murmured, “You saved me. You were the one that pulled me out of my own head. My own weakness. You told me you loved me, and that you’d burn with me because of that one promise we made. I didn’t… I didn’t even know you remembered.” She laughed lightly like she’d just said something ludicrous. “You’ve always been there for me. You’ve…” A sob caught in her throat, “You’ve saved me so many times… I-In every way that a person could be saved. So, thank you.”

As he held her against his chest, he felt so bright, like a whole sun had been born in his heart, and it was so warm. So bright and warm and alive.

"You're such an idiot," he mumbled.

 _I can't wait to marry you_ , he thought.

She only smiled at that. "I love you too."

 _So much_ , she thought.

_So, so much._

end.


End file.
